XMen: Extra Guys
by Andrew Fisher15
Summary: A different version of X-1 and X-2, with Jubilee, Gambit, and an original character in them. Guest starring the Punisher and about introduce Iron Man, Tony Stark. Plot has now changed entirely after X-Men 2and will not include the X-3 movie plot at all.
1. Prologue

All right, welcome to my story, X-Men; Extra Guys. This fanfiction starts with X-Men 1, and follows through the plot of the X2 movie. Before you write this off as a novelized version of the movies, please let me tell you there are many differences between this fanfiction and the content of the first two X-Men films. For starters, this story includes Gambit and Jubilee as main characters, as well as an original character. Also, this could be considered a mini-marvel crossover, since Frank Castle, the Punisher, as well as Tony Stark, Iron Man, both guest star in parts. Thirdly, I did not mirror copy the film script. Most of the content, even the parts directly following the movie plot, are changed enough to keep interest.

Also, currently this story has passed the plots of the two films and is going onto a fairly original story arc; if you want, you could just leap forward to chapter 30 or so and skip all the movie-plot content.

Anyway, enough with that. Oh, and I don't own this content, Marvel does, and am receiving no profit for this writing. (Before you ask, yes, I have earned money from writing, though the largest sum was only $100.)

Enjoy the story.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Washington D.C, the United States Senate, hearing concerning a mutant registration proposal.._

If she was nervous, she didn't show it. "Unfortunately, we don't know the exact cause of the x genes rapid changes. Theories range from it being the next stage in human evolution to effects of radiation or possibly even better medicine. It wouldn't be first time notably changes have occurred in our genetic code." She said, addressing the politicians. "For instance; it's a little known fact, but the average human female today reaches physical adulthood almost twelve years earlier than her ancestors did in the 1800's. Is it simply caused by better nutrition in our diets? Or is it genetic?" She asked. "There is still a great deal of knowledge that we lack about the way our own bodies function, and I feel we should keep that in mind as we discuss the x gene mutations."

These mutations manifest at puberty, and are frequently triggered by periods of heightened emotional stress." She flipped over her notes. "Despite what the media would have us think, the real numbers are much lower than originally anticipated. Estimates put the amount of people in the United States with dominant mutant x genes at one hundred thousand or less—the population of a medium-sized city. Due to the nature of genetic mutations, we believe that up to ninety-eight percent of those people will never even realize that officially, they are 'mutants' as they've been labeled." She paused, looking over the crowd, trying to see if she was winning them over. "Studies of the x gene itself suggest that the global population of those with drastic genetic changes—the sort that causes the unnatural abilities we've seen so much news coverage about lately—will not rise over five thousand in the foreseeable future."

"Thank you, Miss Grey!" Senator Kelly said, rising from his seat. "That was quite educational. However, it fails to address the issue which is the focus of this hearing. Three words; are mutants dangerous?" The mask of neutral calm on her face cracked for a moment, nervousness twisting her expression for a second before vanishing as quickly as it came.

"I think that's a rather unfair question, Senator Kelly." She replied coolly. "After all, the wrong person behind the wheel of a car is dangerous. Dozens of innocent people every day pay for traffic mistakes with their lives, yet I'm yet to hear a proposal to ban automobiles." The blond politician looked flustered at the unexpected response, much to the amusement of several of his colleges.

"Well, we do license people to drive," Senator Kelly said.

"Yes, we do." Jean Grey agreed. "We license people to drive, to hunt, to teach, to protect, to marry..." Her gaze swept the chamber, almost pleadingly. "But not to live."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_A short time later…_

"Doctor Grey, are mutants dangerous?" One reporter asked, thrusting a microphone at the woman's face. She didn't bother answer, merely walking faster towards her car. The other reporters didn't give up hope on getting a response.

"Is there a mutant plot?" Another shouted. The third lacked some of the blunt rudeness of the others.

"Do you have any statement, Miss Grey?" He asked, sounding notably warmer than the others. Jean paused, turning to look at the crowd that had followed her across the parking lot. _Fifteen, maybe twenty?_ She wondered briefly, turning the key, unlocking the car door.

Towards the back, a teenage boy took an unopened can of soda out of his baggy pockets, hefted it for a moment, and pitched. Several others saw in time to shout. Jean lifted a hand, and the can halted mid-air, several feet from her face. It rotated for a moment, then slowly lowered to the ground, a light _tink_ sounding as it touched the asphalt, standing upright. She looked at the reporter who has asked the last question.

"We are not the ones to be afraid of." She said lightly, getting in the car. The engine revved, making the crowd disperse, and she drove off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_In a little truck-stop town in Canada…_

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said dramatically, ignoring the fact the none of the women present could be called ladies, much less the males be considered gentleman, "Are you just going to let this man take your money away? Do we have any challengers?!"

"I'll fight him!" A man emerged from the smoky, dim bar area into more brightly lit cage. The onlookers cheered, their feelings towards the night's constant winner soured by lost bets.

"Whatever you do, don't hit him in the groin." The announcer said quietly, covering the mike.

"I thought you said anything goes!" The challenger protested. The announcer shrugged.

"Anything goes, Stu, but he'll take it personal." He replied, stepping out of the cage. A muscular bouncer closed the metal door and padlocked it shut. The other fighter glanced up as if barely interested, took the cigar out of his mouth, and gently placed it in a nook formed by the cages chain-link walls.

"Three, two, one, fight!" The announcer declared. The challenger rushed forward before the other man even stood, smashing him to the ground, then landing a viscous kick to his ribs, making half the crowd cheer. The first brawler suddenly rose, meeting the oncoming blow with his own fist. Stu cried out, stepping back, holding his hand in agony. The next blow slammed him up against the cage wall. The fighter brazenly head-bashed him as he bounced off the metal, and Stu went down for the count.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the still un-defeated champion of the ring, the Wolverine." The announcer declared. The crowd booed. Judging by his reaction, Wolverine couldn't have cared less.

_An hour later…_

The bartender glanced around once more, then walked back over to the young girl, now the sole person sitting at the bar.

"Find what you want? Or just sticking with water?" He asked. She didn't reply, looking away.

"Beer." A voice said behind her. She turned in time to see the cage-fighter, Wolverine, sitting down, now fully clothed. Their eyes met for a second before she averted her gaze. Two more men walked over, one sporting huge purple bruises on his shaved skull.

"You owe me some money." The defeated brawler growled. "No one takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it." His friend looked nervous.

"Stu, come'on, lets go." He said, tugging at his arm. Stu ignored him, leaning closer to Wolverine.

"I know what you are." He whispered. Wolverine finally responded.

"You lost your money. Keep this up, you'll loose something else." He replied, irritation showing. Stu turned away, mumbling angrily, reaching into his pocket. _Chink._

"Look out!" The girl screamed. In one fluid motion, Wolverine stood, knocked the switchblade away, and threw the man up against the wall. Everyone froze, staring. Protruding from his hand, between his knuckles, were two long silver claws, like knives, now embedded on the wall millimeters away from the man's throat. Slowly, a third middle claw came out, stopping just as the blade touched Stu's windpipe.

_Ka-Chink!_ The bartender raised a shotgun, aimed point-blank at Wolverine's head.

"Get out of my bar, freak!" He ordered shakily. Wolverine turned his head slightly, looking at him, his expression turning to an angry exasperation. _Sniik!_ He twisted rapidly, bringing his other hand up, snarling. Three claws sliced through the shotgun, cutting it to pieces. The hand stayed up, and for a few moments he held both men at bay. Wolverine glanced at the girl again, and as if changing is mind, suddenly retracted the claws back into his hand, threw his shoulders back with a huff, grabbed the beer and left. The girl looked around, noticing the angry glares being directed at her. She heaved a duffel bag up where it had been resting and ran out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_A dozen miles later…_

Wolverine groaned and stepped on the brake, bringing the rickety truck to a halt. The door squeaked open, and he stalked to the trailer behind the vehicle. She didn't move, probably hoping she was still hidden. He grabbed the bag and tossed it out on the road.

"What are you doing?" He asked gruffly. The girl finally stood up from her hiding spot next to his bike, the cloak making her look like a little green riding hood. _What's she, late teens, maybe early twenties?_ He wondered. _Another runaway._

"I-I'm sorry. I need a ride, thought you could help me." She said sheepishly.

"Get. Out." He said slowly. She hopped down, and he started walking off.

"Where am I supposed to go?" She asked, sounding a little resentful. She looked around, at snow-covered woods as far as she could see.

"I don't know." Wolverine admitted flippantly.

"You don't know, or you don't care?" She said.

"Pick one." Wolverine said flatly.

She was incredulously surprised at his coldness. "I saved your life!"

"No, you didn't." He replied, walking back to the cab. The truck rumbled back to life and started driving off. A hundred yards later it suddenly stopped, and he waved a hand out the window. She grabbed the bag eagerly and ran over, jumping in as though he might change his mind if she waited a second longer. He silently shifted the truck back in gear as she buckled up and they rumbled along in silence for several minutes.

"You don't have anything to eat, do you?" The girl asked wistfully. Wolverine groaned, then reached over and opened the glove compartment. Inside were several candy bars. She quickly unwrapped one and took a bite, hungrily.

"I'm Rogue," she said, suddenly growing a little friendlier. Wolverine gave an acknowledging grunt but didn't speak. Her eyes drifted to the dog tags hanging on his chest.

"Were you in the army?" Rogue asked curiously. Again, he didn't respond. "Doesn't, doesn't that mean you were in the army?" She glanced back at the rear of the truck, which had been converted to a shabby sleeping area.

"Wow." Rogue said, amazed at the squalor he lived in. Wolverine glanced over, finally speaking.

"What?" He asked. Rogue shrugged, still staring at the living space.

"It's just that, suddenly my life doesn't seem that bad." She said distractedly.

"Well," Wolverine said, a slight edge in his voice, "If you prefer the road…."

"No," Rogue said quickly. "It looks great. It looks… comfy." She took her gloves off and started rubbing her hands together, blowing on them. Wolverine noticed and flicked the heat on. "Put your hands on the heater," he said. She didn't move. He reached one arm over and she jerked back as though his claws might come out.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, kid." Wolverine said tiredly. Rogue put her gloves on, shaking her head.

"No, it's nothing personal. It's just that, when people touch my skin, something happens." She said softly.

"What?" Wolverine asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. Rogue shrugged.

"I don't know, they just get hurt." She said, looking out the window. He took the hint that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Fair enough," Wolverine said. "What kind of name is Rogue?"

"I don't know," she replied, half-defensively and half-teasing. "What kind of name is Wolverine?"

"My name's Logan, kid." Logan said, making a turn on the road.

"Marie." Rogue said. She glanced at Logan, and the silent acknowledgement was clear, that they were both mutants.

"Does it hurt when your claws come out?" She asked curiously.

"Every time," Logan replied shortly. She didn't quite know how to respond to that. It dawned on her…

"Shouldn't you be wearing your seatbelt?" She asked.

"Listen, kid, I have been driving this truck since before you could read. That last thing I need is-" **WHAM!** The truck slammed to a halt, throwing Logan out through the windshield onto the road and making the seatbelt dig painfully into Marie's shoulder. She recovered enough to look out. Directly in front of the truck was a tree trunk. A few yards beyond that, Logan staggered to his feet, then turned, making the girl's eyes widen. His forehead was gouged open, and healing before her eyes.

"Kid, you okay?" He asked, wiping his face off. She froze, unable to respond. "Kid, I said, are you—arg!" A blur suddenly collided with him, sending him through the air, breaking a tree with his impact. The brutishly large newcomer laughed, and chased after her friend. There were snarls, a few muffled _thuds_, then… silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Okay, hope you liked it. Leave a review if you did, then add story alert so you know when I update. Happy reading!


	2. Road Rage

Here's where this story breaks away somewhat from the movies, and the original character makes his entry. (Please note, this Sabertooth is the black-haired and less animal-like Victor Creed from **Wolverine: Origins**, not the original **X-Men** movie.)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rogue froze for a few moments, staring at the spot Logan had vanished from. The attacker was still out of sight, for the moment. She tried turning the keys in the ignition, making the engine groan loudly before dying. _Truck's totaled, _She realized, trying to think, find some course of action. She looked around the cab several times, hoping for something useful to catch her eye—to her disappointment, finding nothing except the normal trash that built up during roadtrips. _Gotta get out of here, that guy could be coming back…_ She forced herself to move, do **something**. The door squeaked loudly as she opened it and a moment later she was back on the road, the bitter winds chilling her face. _Come'on come'on, what am I even supposed to due right now?! _

And down the road, the hum of another vehicle approaching drifted towards here ears. Marie ran towards the oncoming van, waving her arms, hoping that whoever it was wasn't like the people she had read about who robbed accident victims…

The driver slammed the van to a halt around fifteen yards away, and after a moment's hesitation, got out. The terror shifted to hope as she bolted over to him. He looked around twenty-five, maybe 5'9", short brown hair, clean shaven, and was wearing a gray trench coat that made her think of Humphrey Bogart.

"You gotta help me!" She gasped out. "Logan, he was attacked! Some guy came out of nowwhere and threw him into the woods, they both vanished!" The stranger raised his eyebrows and took a step forward, hands raised in an attempt to calm her.

"Hey, calm down." He looked over at the smashed truck. "Ma'am, where you in the truck?" His accent marked him as definitely American, not a local Canadian.

"Yes, but I'm fine, you gotta help my friend!" She repeated, alarm rising.

"Someone attacked your friend?" The man repeated, looking around. Marie nodded. The newcomer grabbed her arm and half-dragged her over to his vehicle. "Get in the van and lock the doors, I'll look around, see if your friend is nearby." She obeyed, wondering if the man was a police officer, or maybe a soldier, judging by how smoothly he was reacting. The man waited until she clicked the door locks shut, then carefully trotted over to Logan's wrecked truck, surveying the damage from several angles before walking to the edge of the woods, looking around. Rogue glanced around the van's interior, feeling slightly safer inside the sturdy vehicle—it almost gave the feeling of being inside tank, thanks to the odd design.

_**Gggrawwrrr! **_A half-bellow-half-roar sounded, as if a tiger had escaped from a local zoo. The man leaped back towards the middle of the road, his hand vanishing under his coat then re-reappearing with a handgun. **BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!** The 9mm pistol cracked three times in a second, making Rogue involuntarily cringe and cover her ears as the newcomer shot at something she couldn't see. The attacker leaped out of the woods and into sight, bounding straight at the man, who jumped to the side. The attacker twisted in mid-leap, and his foot connected with the newcomer's hand, making the pistol fly through the air and bounce off the van's windshield. Rogue finally got a clear look. The attacker towered almost a foot over the newcomer, and looked like he weighed at least sixty pounds more. The newcomer's expression of polite and focused calm broke and he looked openly fearful as he backed up, taking out a small knife and holding it defensively.

"Back off!" The stranger growled, ridiculously trying to intimidate the attacker into leaving. Rogue was fairly sure now that her good samaritan was probably a soldier. The bikers had acted much differently, brawling at the cage matches she had seen; this guy acted like he had professional training.

The attacker burst out laughing at the meager show of defiance, a grin on his face. "Where'd you get that? The last gas station you filled up at?" The newcomer didn't respond. The attacker suddenly lunged forward, like a huge cat charging its prey. The newcomer jumped to the side again, but the attacker anticipated the move and easily took him down with an outstretched arm. The newcomer thrashed under the bigger man, and suddenly the knife's three-inch blade found it's way into the attacker's shoulder, making him recoil in surprise and pain. The stranger seized the opportunity to roll away and regain his feet, panting. The huge attacker ripped the knife out and tossed it away, his initial amusement replaced by fury.

"Maybe you should just leave." The newcomer suggested, starting to regain his breath. The attacker smirked and tore the cloth away from the wound. The gouge stopped bleeding almost immediately. Two seconds later it had vanished before their eyes. The attacker chuckled, then, to Marie's shock and horror, took a large step forward and simply kicked the newcomer in the chest. The man **flew **six or seven feet through the air before colliding with a tree and bouncing off it to the ground, not moving. The attacker chuckled again and started walking over to the unconscious body—**BLAM! **The bullet struck the attacker in the arm, and he turned to see Marie now outside the van, holding the newcomer's semiautomatic pistol. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that said _You're kidding, right?_

**TSSEWW!** A red beam lanced out of the woods, smashing into the attacker's back, sending him tumbling through the air in awkward roll. Rogue involuntarily shrieked and fell back, the weapon slipping through her hands and clattering on the ground. The attacker recovered from the blow and snarled at something she didn't see. Another beam shot forward, making the attacker flee.

Rogue managed to regain her feet and stumble to the front of the van, looking for whatever _now_ had materialized. First a crazy nut that attacked Logan, then some cop or soldier or whatever a little older than her, now… She spotted them—not like they were wearing camouflage or hiding. It was a man and a woman, both dressed in black leather, trotting through the snowy woods towards them.

"It's alright." The woman called over to her. "We're here to help."

"I'm Scott, and this is my wife Jean." The man said. He had a weird set of goggles or something on, Rogue had never seen any like them.

"I'm Marie," she replied faintly, leaning against the front of the van, the fading adrenaline rush leaving a shaky, electric feeling in her limbs, hoping she wouldn't faint. She pointed at the knocked-out guy, "I have no idea what his name is, and if you find another knocked out guy in the woods over there, his name's Logan." Jean strode over to the man, checking him for injuries like a doctor. She looked up, her gaze meeting Scott's.

"Alive, but he's going to need some patching up." She informed him.

"Let's find the other guy and get back." Scott said, running of into the woods where Rogue had pointed.

"Did you bring a car?" Rogue asked, looking around a few times. The woman smiled.

"Better." She said. "Private jet."

"Oo-kay…" Rogue said slowly. After all the insanity that had happened so far, the woman claiming they had brought a jet didn't seem as bizarre as it usually would have. The woman noticed the mild state of shock Marie was in. Her expression shifted, becoming warmer.

"Your friend here needs some medical help, and 'Logan' probably will too, when Scott finds him." Jean said, her voice reassuring. "And you can't stay here with that lunatic running around. Why don't you come back with us? We operate out of a mansion in New York—you'd love it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The original character, I think, will serve a neat point. In X-Men movies and cartoons, the normal humans are almost always disposed of by the villains with ease. That's a little unfair, in my unimportant opinion, so in this story, the original character will be the ordinary human who fights against the superpower bad guys.

Note, while I said ordinary, I wasn't excluding a human with training with firearms and experience in fighting. But don't worry, he won't carry Samurai swords or anything crazy, and he's far from a martial arts expert or special forces member, so I think he counts as an ordinary person.

If you like the story and have an account, add it to your story alerts so you save the time of checking back here looking for updates. If enjoyed the story, bookmark it. If you downright think it's a good story, leave a review. (All it takes is a simple 'Neat story, I like it' and you'll have joined the small percentage of readers who are kind enough to leave feedback, not to mention you'll have also lessened the time until the next update.) Anonymous reviews are enabled, and no matter how many reviews the total at the top says, or how many chapters you intend to review, each and every review is noticed and read.


	3. Aftermath

Thanks to all reviewers, you make every moment spent writing this story worth it. Feel free to make suggestions concerning the plot or things you like to see happen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXX

_Things are certainly getting interesting; we just brought three people back to the mansion, victims of an attack by Sabertooth. Two men and a girl. We barely arrived in time to help, and I hate to think about the difference two minutes would have made, earlier or later. Sabertooth had neatly taken down both men and looked on the verge of murdering the girl—she had just shot him with a pistol. Also troubling is the fact that this isn't like the Brotherhood. They don't send people to ambush civilians on rural highways. I don't see the point. None of the three had anything of great value, and hostages aren't worth much of they're not politicians or cops or celebrities, and none of them meet that criteria. Magneto's hardly a fool, though. He knows something we don't. _

_Whatever their reason, we won that round. All three are safely within our walls and away from Magneto. Now we just need to figure out what the Brotherhood wanted with them. _

_Jean Grey _

XXX

**Two hours later, in Westchester, New York….**

The doors hissed open as Xavier wheeled into the medical bay. The usually empty infirmary now held two patients, both unconscious on mobile hospital beds.

"I finished x-raying them both." Jean said, looking up from a desk, giving a quick status report. Two small bags in front of her held the various items both had been carrying. "The younger one's got four cracked ribs and likely a mild concussion. I gave him a sedative, set and bandaged the ribs, then hooked him up to an IV to keep him hydrated." She referred to a driver's license in front of her. "He's one Wesley Graham Judson, American citizen, age 23. Height is 5'9", weighs 167, green eyes, has no restrictions."

"And the other?" The Professor asked. Jean shrugged.

"No idea." She said, shaking her head. "He wasn't carrying any credit cards or id's. There weren't any in his vehicle, either. The girl said his name's Logan, or Wolverine, take your pick."

"Injuries?" Xavier questioned, looking at the x-rays. The first set clearly showed several cracks running through the ribs. He glanced up at 'Judson', then back at the images. He flipped to the second set. The man's entire skeletal system looked unnaturally perfect, streamlined and smooth.

"None." Jean said, sounding surprised, perhaps a little frustrated. She got up and walked over to the beds. "The girl said he was thrown headfirst through the windshield, but he's unharmed—not a scratch on him."

"Claws." The Professor mused, looking at the three long blades running down each forearm. "Metal claws embedded in his arms."

"He doesn't have any slits in his hands, though." Jean said, picking up a heavy arm for emphasis. "And no visible scar tissue. Some sort of healing ability, probably."

"We can ask when he wakes up." The Professor said, giving firm _no_ before she could ask; he hated using his telepathic powers to pry into minds. Jean gave him a look.

"At least check Judson." The doctor asked. "I don't want to have to worry he's going to wake up and burst into flames or spontaneously explode."

"Only that." Charles said, conceding. He placed his hands on Judson's temples, looking over his thoughts, looking for any signs of mutant powers. "He's human, no powers." He confirmed, removing his hands and rolling towards the door.

"How'd he survive a brush with Sabertooth?" Jean asked, doubting the accuracy of the response.

"He's former military, skilled with firearms." Xavier replied, pausing outside the infirmary. "Be careful when they wake up—their last memories are being in a fight. They might be edgy." He glanced at them both again. "Let me know when they regain consciousness. I'd like to speak with them."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Several hours later…_

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.** The man stirred, his eyes fluttering open, hazily trying to focus on his surroundings. His right hand went up to rub his eyes, only to be stopped by a gentle, restraining tug. He grunted and shifted to a sitting position, his chest giving a dry heave as a wave of nausea hit him. The machine kept repeating a single note, its beeps almost in tune with his heart. His hand brushed metal where there shouldn't have been any, bringing his attention the tube attached to his arm. He gingerly took a hold on the needle embedded in his flesh and removed it from the blood vessel, briefly surprised at the lack of pain. Another pad was attached to his chest. He took a moment to verify that it wasn't a hypodermic needle, then ripped it off, wincing as several hairs went with it. The machine gave a loud, upset monotone, the small green line going flat. The man staggered over to the wall and yanked the cord out of the electrical socket, bringing silence.

"Great." He muttered to himself, surveying the room. It looked like a miniature apartment, except for the medical equipment someone had brought it. Clarity started returning to him as awoke fully. He glanced down at his chest, feeling a strange tightness. White bandages were wrapped several times around his torso.

The door creaked behind him, making him turn. A woman strode into the room, wearing a white coat, like a doctor.

"You're up! How are you feeling, Mr. Judson?" She asked cheerfully, her pleasant manner and appearance dissuading any feelings of alarm.

"Awful." He said, bending over, his hand on his side. "Where am I? What happened to the girl?"

"You're safe, and so are your two friends." She said reassuringly. "I'm Doctor Jean Grey. You're at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Westchester, New York."

"Why aren't I in a hospital?" Wesley asked, looking at a box next to the bed. Inside was his wallet, some keys, and his model 92-AF nine millimeter handgun, along with a few random objects he had been carrying. "Oh, wow. You guys found it!" He picked up a small bag. Inside was a black and gray folding knife. The blade was still extended, the small teeth stained with coagulated blood from the fight.

"The man you fought is a member of the Brotherhood of Mutants," Jean informed him, answering his original question. "A dangerous terrorist organization. We thought it best to relocate you to a safer location for treatment."

"Is my van still in Canada?" He asked, surprising her. Most people would have asked what injuries they obtained.

"No, it's in the garage, on site." Jean replied, realizing what he was heading towards. "Besides a slew of bruises, you obtained a concussion as well as several cracked ribs. Four. You need to rest and take things easy for a few weeks."

"I'm okay." Wesley said, gingerly lifting a shirt off a chair and shrugging it on, cautiously trying to avoid irritating his wounds. "Do I need make a statement with the police before I check out?" Jean reached for the appropriate way to put it.

"It's a complicated situation." Jean said. "I'd like you to speak with Charles Xavier before you decide on leaving. He can provide details."

"Did the incident even get reported to the FBI?" He asked. "You said that guy was a terrorist member."

"Like I said, the situation is extremely complicated. You should speak with Professor Xavier." She picked up a clipboard and pretended to make notes about his medical condition. Her patience was starting to evaporate. She focused on his mind, trying to influence his actions by suggesting thoughts. _I'd better talk to this Xavier, get the details, figure out what happened. _His mind didn't accept it readily, his own thoughts colliding with her introduced ones. _I've got better stuff to do than speak with some Professor or the police for hours. They probably got enough of a statement from that girl. Besides, talking to the police is the best way to end up in jail. _She tried to soothe his anxiety, suggesting calmer thoughts. _What harm can it do? I speak with this guy for a few minutes, find out who that nut was. Worst case scenario, I waste a little time and later get to boast that I shot a mutant terrorist. Why not? _

"Okay." Wesley agreed politely. He glanced around. "Just let me get my shoes on, I'll talk with him."

"No problem." Jean said kindly. She walked over to the mini-fridge, and withdrew an energy drink. "Here, this should make you feel a little better."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Toad glanced up from the circuitry as Sabertooth stopped in, the door hurling open and slamming against the wall.

"Weren't you supposed to bring someone back with you?" He asked, his Australian accent showing thickly. Sabertooth roared angrily and stalked past, pausing only to kick the next door in.

"What happened?" Magneto question, turning around in his seat.

"They knew." He growled, slamming a small metallic object down on the table. "And some human was there, delaying me." He flicked two small pieces of lead at Magneto. They glided into his hand, then fell gently into his palm. Bullet fragments.

"I did get these." Sabertooth tossed the dogtags to him. Magneto sighed.

"These will do for now." He said, examining the metal tags. "But we will need more." He pocketed the tags. "I've made the first move, Charles. Your turn."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I know it's fairly sticking to the movie, at the moment, but be patient. While you're at it, leave a little review, and maybe even add this to your story favorites and story alert (Saves you time on checking for updates). And most of the chapters from now on will have short monologues by various characters, almost journal entries, if you will.


	4. Make some friends

Okay folks, here chapter 4. Sorry for not updating sooner, thanks for reviews.

Ryan… you asked if this was going story was going to be a Mary-jane. I sure hope not.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Jean Grey walked down the hallway, Wesley a few paces behind her. What was obviously a dorm area turned to an elegant college, the walls apparently oak or some wood. Voices faded in and out, as they passed classrooms.

"Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters," Wesley read as they passed a plaque on the wall. "I wonder if my grades were good enough to have gotten in as a student a couple of years ago."

"Being accepted as a student here is not determined by grades," Jean Grey said lightly, looking as she was thought the idea was funny. Suddenly a bell rang. Doors started opening, and a group of students poured into the hallways, chatting loudly. Although the hallway was crowded, the students parted to let Jean Grey go by. Wesley received some curious stares. He caught one student's look, some blondish kid flicking a cigarette lighter as he walked along. They turned a corner, apparently entering the office area. Jean stopped.

"This is the Professor Xavier's office," she said. "He's probably expecting you." Wesley stepped over to the door and raised a hand to knock. A voice spoke before his knuckle connected with the door.

"Come in." A man said. Wesley opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The door closed by itself.

"How are you doing, Mr. Judson? You've been through quite a bit." Wesley saw the speaker. It was a middle-aged man, in a wheelchair wearing a suit along with a gold tie.

"I'm good," Wesley said, making sure he was polite. He extended a hand. "Your are-"

"Professor Xavier," the man said warmly, shaking Wesley's hand. "This is my school."

"Please to meet you, sir," Wesley said courteously. Xavier gestured to a chair.

"Take seat. I take it your are wondering why you are at a school, not a police station or a hospital." Xavier said

"I was, yes." Wesley said, looking around at the office. Whatever school he was at, was probably quite an elite one. Thinking back, he was sure he had heard something about this place…

"Let me start back at the beginning," Professor Xavier said. "You were attacked by a man who goes by the name Sabertooth." He offered a cup. "Something to drink?" Wesley accepted.

"Sabertooth is a member of the Brotherhood of Mutants, an extremist mutant group," Xavier said. "It is remarkable that you survived a fight with him. Using just a knife, no less. Quite a compliment to your abilities."

"That girl said he attacked them. Why would he do that?" Wesley asked.

"We are unsure at this time why they did that." Xavier said. "You were found unconscious on that road by two of my X-Men. Ororo Munroe and Scott Summers. They brought you back for medical treatment. Along with the two passengers of that truck, Logan and Marie. Both are fine, and will probably meet you at the dining hall."

"X-Men… I've heard a little about this place." Wesley said slowly. It dawned on him exactly what he had read about it.

"Yes," Professor Xavier said gently. "This is a school for gifted youngsters, mainly mutants. Everyone here is a mutants."

"Oh." Wesley said, seeming slightly at a loss for what the best thing to say was.

"Does that bother you?" Charles asked.

"No. As long as I being a human does not bother them," Wesley said.

"It shouldn't. We would like you to remain here for several weeks." Xavier said.

"Why?" Wesley questioned.

"Because it is very possible that Sabertooth would seek revenge," Xavier said. "And possibly his superior, Magneto. Both are very powerful mutants."

Welsey drummed his fingers on the desk. "You think I would be safer here that at the company I work for?"

"You would indeed be safer here," Xavier said. "It shouldn't take to long to resolve the situation." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I would like you to meet two people." The door opened. Two people walked in, a man wearing red sunglasses and a black woman with white hair. Wesley stood up.

"Wesley, I would like you to meet Ororo Munroe and Scott Summers, who also go by the names Storm and Cyclops." Wesley shook their hands.

"Thanks you very much for saving me," Wesley said, looking very appreciative. "If there is anything I can ever do for either of you, please let know."

"You're welcome," Scott said, looking pleased at being thanked.

"You might get taken up on that offer," Ororo said.

"It's five-thirty," Xavier said. "Feel like getting some dinner?"

"Sure," Wesley said. "but I should probably-"

"Everything from your car, along with some things from your home have been put in a room for you to stay in the teacher's wing. Your car is in the garage downstairs, and the keys are under the mat." Xavier said.

Wesley just stopped for a moment. "Oh," he said.

"And your family, along with your employer, was notified of what happened, and told not to worry. Go get supper."

Wesley looked somewhat amazed. Scott and Ororo just looked at each other, trying not to laugh at his surprise.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, that's chapter 4. Hope you liked it. Feel free to ask questions or make suggestions on the story. PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! I know lots of people read this story and don't leave reviews. Even anonymous reviews are liked.


	5. Dinner

Hey, everyone. As usual, thanks to all the reviewers of the last chapter, in this case London Vixen and whoever else.

Sorry I haven't been updating. It's part laziness, part how crazy life is right now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley followed the flow of students to the dining hall, which was enormous, a cafeteria style place. Wesley glanced around a few times. He estimated at around forty mutants. That many mutants in one place, he mused. Bet the school fights can get fierce here. He picked up a tray, and got in line for supper.

Three minutes later he was feeling rather cheery, seated at a small table a meal. Sure he was alone, but that didn't bother him. He was usually was alone.

Rogue glanced around the crowded hall, grasping her tray with gloved hands. Logan has to be around somewhere. Maybe he was still hanging around with Dr. Grey. She saw someone she recognized. The guy who had helped them. She went over and took a seat.

The young man looked at her, putting down his food.

"Hi. I take it you're Marie?" He asked.

She was caught slightly off-guard. "Yes! I, I would really like to thank you for doing what you did." He shrugged.

"Don't mention it." He looked around. "This certainly isn't the average school," he commented.

"Yea," Marie said.

"Any special reason why that criminal on the road attacked you and your friend?" Wesley asked lightly, his Chicago accent showing.

Marie shook her head. "Probably some car-jacker."

"I was just about to tell you to get my handgun out of the glove compartment, when he appeared out of now where." Wesley lamented. "I could have dealt with him that way."

"I did. Get your gun out, that is. I shot at him, twice," Marie told him.

"Really?" Wesley asked, smiling at the thought. "Did you hit him?"

"Got him in the shoulder," she said. "The other shot missed. He was finish you off or something that after he threw you into a tree."

"Then I thank you. Although I don't remember that part after hitting a tree." He remembered something. "You mention a guy named Logan?"

"Yes-" Marie said.

"Hey kid," a man said as he sat down. Wesley's first impression was that he was a biker.

"Hey Logan. Where you been?" Marie asked. Wesley raised his eyebrows. This guy was attacked by Sabertooth. She didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "this is Wesley, the guy who-"

"Heard it all from Wheels," Logan interrupted, taking a enormous bite of a steak. Marie gave Logan a look.

"Oh, sorry," he said in between chews. "Professor Xavier. Whichever you prefer." He glanced at Wesley. "And thanks for the help."

"Sure," Wesley said. There was a moment of silence, Welsey taking a few quick glances at Logan. The guy looked like he once mugged people for a living. Probably would have killed the vigilante from the film 'Death Wish', he thought, trying to keep a straight face.

"So," Wesley said slowly, trying to recall the books he had read on making friends, and shake off the awkwardness of the moment. "Where you from, Marie?"

"Mississippi," She said. "I decided to travel a bit before college. This seems like a nice place to go to." Wesley hesitated for a moment. What harm can asking do?

"So, Logan, what do you do for a living?" he asked mildly. Logan looked like he might kill him for that question.

"I fight. Cage fighting, kid, in bars." Logan growled.

"I'm not a kid," Wesley, irritation showing. "I'm twenty-three, okay?"

"Don't take offense," Marie said. "I'm twenty-two and he's called me 'kid' more times than Marie."

Logan opened his mouth to reply. Wesley turned, admiring the wall decoration. A girl suddenly appeared in front of the wall. Just appeared, as if she walked through it. Wesley jerked backwards in his seat.

"Oh sure, not a kid," Logan said smugly, glancing behind him and seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"She walked through the wall," Wesley said, recovered from his momentary shock.

"Baloney," Logan said, taking an enormous bite of his steak.

"Really?" Marie asked. "Walked through the wall?" The girl that-had-walked-through-the-wall walked over to their table.

"Hi!" She said cheerfully, looking at each of them. "Which one of you is the new student here?"

"I guess that would be me," Marie said. "I'm Marie."

"Katherine Pride, but everyone calls me Kitty," the other girl said. "Occasionally I go by Shadowcat since I can walk through walls. And these must be the two guys that fought Sabertooth, Logan and Wesley." Logan and Wesley exchanged a look.

"How…" Logan started to ask.

"Word gets around here quick," Kitty said. "Besides, I talked with the Professor. Gotta go, see you around Marie, Logan, Wes." Marie raised her eyebrows at Wesley.

"Wes?"

"Tolda she could walked through walls," Wesley said smugly, ignoring Marie's comment. "By the way, forgot to ask: what's your amazing superhuman ability?"

Logan held up a hand. Shoonk! Out came several enormous claws. "Shredding smart-alecks, kid."

"Ah," Wesley said, flinching a little. "I'm guessing you don't buy pocketknives often." He turned to Marie. "Mind telling me your ability is?" She looked hesitant.

"When I touch people… I just absorb them. Literally. I can touch someone and knock them out, just like that. I haven't touched someone in nearly four years," she said almost mournfully.

"I… I'm sorry." Wesley said quietly. The table was silent for a moment. Wesley quietly got up and left. "See you two later."

He walked down a few halls, passing some strange sights, and found himself in a small garden. Complete with fountain, walkway, flowers, the whole thing.

A small light flared. Fire, really. Wesley realized a student was holding a ball of flame just above his hand, smiling. Wesley took a few steps forward, staring as the fire grew brighter. He stumbled over a small rock. The student spun. "Who is it?"

"Just me," Wesley assured him. "I was just passing through."

"Who are you?" The student demanded. "I know everyone here, and you're new."

"Wesley Graham Judson. You are?" He asked.

"John. A.K.A. Pyro, the flame wielder. What's your talent?" John asked, the fire ball in his hand getting brighter and bigger.

"Oh, me?" Wesley asked innocently. "I have lots of talent. Good evening," he said, walking away.

"No, I'm serious. What's your ability?" John persisted.

"Krav Maga." Wesley told him evasively.

"What's that? I've never heard of it." John said.

"It's a martial arts form that takes a while to learn." Welsey started walking faster. John had to jog to keep up.

"Are you even a mutant?"

Wesley stopped suddenly. "No, not really. But we're all friends here, right?"

Pyro's face darkened. "I should have known it! You have to leave, now!" The flame was getting as large as a basketball. Wesley put up his hands in surrender.

"You caught me. Ok, fine, I'll go." He walked towards a door that lead outside the school walls. Pyro followed closely. Wesley took several deep breaths. Then he spun around, kicking the lighter out of John's hand, and shoving him backwards to the ground. The flame went out. The student scramble for the lighter, placed his hands on the igniter… only for a booted foot to come down hard on it, driving it into the soft grass. John looked up, at the barrel of a handgun.

"Up, up." Wesley said. John backed away. Wesley picked up the lighter, being careful not to make a spark.

"You cannot create flame by yourself. Interesting." John looked like he wanted to kill him.

"I thought you mutants were supposed to be poor victims of prejudice. Seems like you have a thing against normal folk."

"You'll pay for this!" John growled.

Wesley tossed the lighter into the air and caught it, keeping the Berreta 92fs pistol pointed at John. "Personally your racism, specism, whatever, doesn't bother me. I have a good friend who's a mutant, in fact. You can go blame us normal people for keeping you down, persecuting you, all that stuff, but if you try to avenge wrongs by cremating me, I will deal severely with you. Understand?"

"I assure you, you are in no danger here," a voice said. Wesley and John turned simultaneously. It was Professor Xavier.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you guys like it. Leave suggestions on story plot if you like.


	6. Tussle

Hi, everyone who reads this. I am very sorry for not updating sooner.

**Ryan**: You pointed out a flaw, and it was corrected. Oh, and you requested Remy, Gambit, from Louisiana, be brought in. Since you are such a faithful reviewer, your request is honored. He will show in the next chapter, or the one after that. But he will show up very soon.

**London Vixen:** As always, thanks for the review. I apologize for not updating sooner.

The crowd of readers who leave no reviews: It's nice to know you like the story, even if you don't leave reviews.

By the way, feel free to ask me to add things in the story.

Here's the next chapter. Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John and Wesley froze. The professor shook his head with disappointment.

"John, I'll see you in my office on lunch hour tomorrow. You may leave," he said, "Wesley, let's take a walk." John silently left. Wesley holstered the glock and followed the professor down one of the paths.

" 'Bout time you showed up," Wesley growled. "Your students hate humans, eh?" He scowled.

"I apologize about the way John acted," the professor said kindly. "He comes from a rough background, and has suffered greatly for being a mutant." Wesley was solemn.

"You unfortunate people," Wesley said. "Doomed to a conflict once explained to the world."

"Really?" Xavier asked. "What makes you think so?" Wesley plucked a leaf of a bush before answering.

"You're a mutant, I'm a human…" he mused. "Instead of getting the title of being people with strands of DNA that allow amazing things, you received the title of being another species, not human.

. History is repeating itself once again. The Africans were dehumanized, and they became slaves. The Jews and other groups were dehumanized, and the Germans and Arabs have slaughtered them in times past. Unborn children were dehumanized as blobs of tissue, and now millions of them have been killed. Patterns. You recognize them, you can easily predict them."

"You study history?" Xavier asked. Wesley shrugged.

"A little. Was my favorite subject in school." He said. He looked at Xavier closely.

"I forgot to ask. What's your ability?"

"I am telepathic, and can read minds," Xavier said. He raised his eyebrows, seeing Welsey's attempt to not smirk.

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

"Not entirely," Wesley said, grinning. "If you can really read my mind, then…" He thought of something. "Tell me what I am thinking."

"You are wondering what would happen to John Allerdyce if he was caught out in the rain," Xavier said smoothly.

The look of surprise on his face was priceless.

--------------------

Logan headed to his room, just a pace behind Jean Grey. She opened the door to his new room, and showed him in. Logan was impressed. It was almost the size of an apartment, very classy looking as well. Nicer than any place he had stayed in before. _Any place I remember, _he thought sadly.

"I think you'll be comfortable here," Jean said, standing at the door.

Logan glanced up from searching the fridge. "No beer?"

"This is a school, Logan. There is not a single beer on the grounds," Jean told him. He reached for a cigar in his pocket. "No smoking either."

"Look, I promise not to light it, okay?" Logan said. He opened a few more cabinets. "So, where's your room?"

" Wwith Scott, down the hall, and Ororo's room is at the end of the hall," Jean said. "Your friend Wesley's room is next door and Marie is rooming in the dorms with the other students. Will that be all?"

"What's your gift?" Logan asked. He glanced again at her hand. There was a ring. Slight difficultie.

"I'm telekinetic, I can move things with my mind," Jean said, leaning against the door frame.

"What kind of things?" Logan pressed. The closet behind Logan opened and shut by itself.

"I also have some telepathic ability," She added.

"What, like the professor?" Logan continued on. Jean shook her head.

"Nowhere near that powerful. But he's teaching me to develop it."

Logan smiled. "I'm sure he is. So read my mind."

"I really rather not," Jean said. Logan didn't let it drop.

"What? Afraid you might like it?" Logan asked, crossing his muscular arms.

Jean gave him a withering stare. "I doubt that."

"Com'on," Logan said. Jean Grey rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine." She stepped closer and placed her hand's on the sides of Logan's face. Neither moved for several seconds, then Logan removed her hands.

"What did you see?"

----------------------------------------

Rogue managed to find Miss Monroe and ask where her room was. She had been show it early, but had totally forgotten through the maze of halls. When Storm showed her back to the dorm room, her new roommates where there. Catherine and Jubilee. Rogue hesitated for a moment before opening the door, as she heard voices inside. "Did you see the look's that guy Logan was giving Scott? Don't want to be around when they decide to slug it out. And-" Storm finally knocked. The voice stopped.

"It's open."

Inside was the girl Rogue had met earlier, Kitty, and a Chinese girl in yellow jacket.

"Girls, this is your new roommate. Marie. Marie, this is Catherine Pride and Jubilee."

"Hi!" Kitty said. "Happy to meet you!" Jubilee. "Come on in!" Rogue felt encouraged.

"You get the top bunk," Jubilee said, helping Rogue with a bag. "Just don't roll off!"

---------------------------------------------------------------

"So you can really read minds," Wes said. It was not a question as much as a statement. Xavier nodded. "Then I would greatly appreciate if you asked me thing instead reading my mind."

"That is fair," the Professor agreed. "Do you need to stick around Logan for your protection?"

"Do most people ask what your ability is when they meet you? And also, how many people will John tell what happened?"

"To the first question, yes, it is common. To the second question, none. I told him not to repeat what happened," Xavier said.

"Oh." Wesley mused. "Who are the members of this 'Brotherhood' that I have to worry will come after me?"

"There's the leader, Magneto. He can manipulate metal objects. Mystique is a shape-shifter. She can appear identical in voice and appearance to anyone, and is exceptionally skilled in hand to hand combat. There is also Toad, who can fight, leap like a toad, and spit an acidic substance, along with being able to use his large tongue in combat. And of course Sabertooth, who is like Logan in his abilities of enhanced sense, physical strength, claws and a healing factor." Xavier finished, as they came to the end of the path in the garden.

"Where did Logan get those claws?" Wesley asked. Xavier frowned.

"We don't know," Charles Xavier said. "Neither does he."

"That's, uh, rather odd. " Wesley said. They came to an entrance into the building and went in.

"It's getting late. Why don't you retire to your room. Although tomorrow is Saturday, sleeping in late is not suggested." Charles told him. "And your cell phone is above the coat rack."

Wesley nodded and headed off to his quarters. "Good evening." Charles wheeled back to his office. Scott Summers stepped around a corner.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked Xavier. "Both of those men have violent histories. This is a school, not a military barracks, for Pete's sake. We can't endanger the students with their presence."

"Scott, I appreciate your concern. But that human will affect our future a great deal, and we cannot let him be harmed. As for Logan, I still don't understand why Magneto would be after him. There are more powerful mutants out there. Why him?" Xavier asked no one.

"Maybe it's his way with people," Scott answered with a slight sneer.

"You don't like him?" Charles asked as the door to his office opened automatically.

"What makes you think that?" Scott said as he leaned against the wall.

"Well, I am physic." Xavier responded neutrally. Scott caught the humor in his remark and managed to smile before walking off.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you like the chapter. Please leave a review.

Return to Top


	7. Night at The School

Hey, all my faithful readers. Hope you like the chapter. **Ryan**, sorry, Gambit will be in the next chapter, you have my word of honor. I was going to add onto this chapter and have him arrive, but it didn't feel right.

Thanks for all the reviews.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was quiet. Most of the students were asleep, excluding three who were crowded around a laptop watching the new Rocky Balboa movie on Youtube at 2:00 am, and one who was walking through the halls, being careful not to break the silence. Marie liked the peacefulness of the school after lights out. It gave her a chance to explore. She paused outside one door. Was that talking?

"Don't let him get away." Someone said, sounding like a cellphone on speaker mode.

"Is a he target?" Another voice asked. It sounded like Wesley.

"He's _the _target!" The other person said. That was enough. She opened the door.

There was Wesley, sitting on his bed, illuminated by the glow of a TV as… he played a video game. He paused it and looked over, having heard the door open.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"I heard someone, and…" she trailed off. He suddenly started laughing quietly.

"Oh. You heard him-" he nodded at the video game, "and thought I was an assassin or something here to kill Xavier or someone."

"Maybe," she admitted. She glanced at his t-shirt. It read 'ARGUS.'. "What's ARGUS?" She asked.

"It's-" He stopped. They both heard it. He turned off the tv.

"That's Logan!" Marie said, running out of the room. He followed inside Logan's room. He was thrashing in his sleep, crying out if in pain.

"Logan, wake up." Marie said. She reached out a hand - she had left her gloves in her room!

"Wake him up!" She told Wesley. She held up a bare hand. "I can't touch him." Wesley hesitated for a moment. She tried again "Logan." Wesley had a bad feeling about this

"Marie, you might want to step ba-" He started.

"Arrrh!!" Logan roared, jerking awake and upright, and attacking the first thing he saw. Marie screamed and tried to jump back. There was a dull noise of metal piercing flesh.

Everyone froze for a few seconds. Logan stared at Marie, and looked down. His claws had gone through her chest, coming out the back. She tried to speak. _Shook! _The claws were retracted, and Marie stumbled slightly. Wesley unfroze.

"Help!" Logan bellowed at him. He started moving, ripping the sheet of the bed, and placing Logan's hands over the punctures, showing him what to do to slow blood loss.

"Apply pressure! Now!" He knew how deadly knife wounds could be_. Thank God it's puncture wounds, not slashes_. A well-placed knife slash could easily kill someone in under fifteen seconds. He raced out of the room.

"Jean Grey! Doctor Grey!" He pounded on her door. She opened it.

"What?" She asked sleepily.

"Marie needs your help!" They ran back down the hallway, into the room - and stopped.

The back of the girl's clothes were torn were the blades had pierced, but the wounds were closed, despite the pool of blood that trailed from her back to the ground. Her hand was on Logan's forehead, who was turning deathly white. She took her hand off, and he collapsed to the floor. Marie turned.

"It was an accident," she said tearfully, and walked out of the room, through the small crowd (which gave her plenty of space to go by, for obvious reasons).

"Wesley, help me put him on his bed." Jean ordered.

"I can get him myself," he told her. He had carried unconscious adults before. He tried to pick Logan up. "Oof," he muttered as he managed a few inches before dropping the man. "He feels like he weighs three hundred pounds."

"On three. One, two, three." Working together they placed Logan back on his bed.

"What happened?" Storm asked him. He rubbed his eyes.

"Marie was apparently walking the halls. She heard the tv in my room, opened the door, and we talked for a second, then we both heard Logan having a nightmare." He nodded at the man.

"He was growling, sobbing, talking. Marie tried to wake him up, he woke up and stabbed her. I went to get Doctor Grey, and when we came back a moment later…" He shrugged and held up his hands. "I don't know what happened fully."

"It's alright," Jean Grey said. "They will both be fine. Go back to sleep." She turned to the crowd at the doorway. "Go back to sleep, all of you." They dispersed.

-----------------------the next morning-------------------------------------------------

Rogue woke up hoping the night before had been a dream. Or, more like a nightmare.

"Are you okay?" Jubilee asked, already showered and dressed. "I heard about what happened."

"Aww." Rogue moaned. "How many people know?" Jubilee hesitated a moment before replying.

"Most of the school," she said. Rogue grimaced slightly. "That is, all," Jubilee added most helpfully.

Rogue pulled the pillow over her face and started whacking it.

"Come on!" Jubilee said. "Everyone has bad days. No reason to let it spoil a Saturday morning!" She held her hands up. _Paft!_ Tiny sparks started popping in the air like fireworks.

"This is nothing like the time I accidentally destroyed the big tv in the lounge, or killed the electronics in the kitchen's main freezer. Besides, the professor says Wolvie is fine."

Kitty entered the room. "Got her up yet, Jubes?"

"No," she said. "I still say we let her sleep 'till eight-thirty." She walked a few steps away.

Rogue heard that from under the pillow, with lingering enhanced hearing. She raised it slightly and peeked. The chair she had attacked last night in a rage was still lying there in a broken heap. She glanced over at the small television. It was blaring Saturday morning cartoons.

"I thought you said you were nineteen," Rogue mumbled, getting out of bed.

"I did," Jubilee said, watching the shows, a half-eaten banana in her hand.

"How can you still watch those things?" She asked, getting her outfit for the day out and heading for the bathroom.

"Classics are for all ages," Jubilee responded, turning up Donald Duck even more.

----------------------------------------------------------

Okay, there's that chapter. By the way, I made some adjustments to the story, editing chapters and the like.


	8. Never gets boring

Hi, here's the next chapter. By the way, this is not a strict novelization of X-Men; it will be rather different than the movie. Also, Jubilee and Gambit are the Jubilee and Gambit from the 90's cartoon series- I'm not into comics, and I don't really like the Jubilee and Gambit from X-Men: Evolution.

Thanks for the reviews, London Vixen, Ryan, Water Raven, lovestoread, and definitely AbeoUmbra, who kindly let me know I made that mistake with the chapters. 

By the way, just as a favor to Marvel and Stan Lee, you should all go watch Spider-Man 3 in theaters, buy a Marvel comic book, or eagerly await the X-Men Prequels: Wolverine, and Magneto (Two separate movies.)

Oh, and just to say again, the only character in this story that is mine is Wesley.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley was jogging lightly down the halls, making himself familiar with the mansion. He was exploring before his friend arrived. He had talked with him over the phone, and he decided to come see the school. He glanced at his watch. He had a few minutes left.

"Ahh!" Someone shrieked, followed by a small explosion. Wesley flung open a door to the sight of a small tv on fire. A girl ran out of the bathroom and splashed a cup of water on it.

"Water doesn't work on electrical fires!" Wesley said. He grabbed a rug and tried to smother the flames.

Ice suddenly encased the tv, chilling the room. "Water, no, ice, yes," another student said, who had apparently frozen the fire. "Sorry about the tv, Jubilee. You'll get the hang of your powers eventually."

"Thanks, Bobby." The owner of the tv said. She glanced at Wesley. "And thanks for trying to help. I'm Jubilee."

"Wesley." They shook hands. "Why'd the tv explode?" He asked.

"I, uh, haven't completely got control of my powers yet. I make these exploding sparks, and it can really mess up electric stuff." She looked at the trashed tv. "I hate machines."

"I can see why," Wesley commented. "See you around."

"Or at a repair shop," Jubilee said.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Gambit! Glad to see you!" Wesley said, embracing his friend.

"Gambit is glad you are in one piece!" Remy LeBeau said. "You should be dead after fighting Sabertooth!"

"I'm fine," Wesley said. "How you been doing? Also, how exactly did you get past the gate? I didn't yet mention to any of the professors I had a friend coming."

"Oh, I just took an different route than the gate," Gambit said. He looked around the lavish foyer. "You get to stay here for free? If I get beat up, do I qualify?"

"Mind introducing your friend, Wesley?" Jean Grey asked, showing up out of nowhere.

"This is Remy LeBeau, a.k.a. Gambit. Remy, This is Jean Grey." Wesley said.

"An honor to meet you," Gambit said, kissing her hand instead of shaking it. Jean seemed taken off guard.

"Who are you?" Scott demanded, coming down the stairs to the sight of some stranger in a trench coat flirting with his fiancé.

"Uh, Scott, this is Gambit, a friend of Wesleys," Jean said.

"Who also goes by Remy LeBeau," Professor Xavier said, wheeling into the room. "He'll be staying here for a day or two."

"I apologize for not letting you know I had someone arriving," Wesley said.

"Oh, no harm done." The Professor said.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Logan limped down the hallway, supported by Storm. He glanced around, seeing all the students relaxing, snacking, talking, whatever. Some seemed upset, and he caught snatches of how they had been ripped off in card games. "Why is everyone up at the crack of dawn?"

"That is a sunset, Logan," Storm said gently. "Not a sunrise."

"It felt like she almost killed me," Logan groaned, stumbling.

"If Rogue had held on much longer, she could have." Storm said. Logan scowled.

"You think it helps that kid's social issues to go around calling herself 'Rogue'? What's with these idiotic names? 'Storm', 'Cyclops'? At least Jean and the Professor are smart enough have avoided them."

Ororo wasn't angry. "Some of us wear those names as badges of honor, Logan. We are proud to be mutants."

She opened a door and lead Logan into an empty indoor basketball court. "Scott wishes to speak to you." There was one-eye now. Logan managed to straighten up and stand tall despite that he felt like sleeping another day. Storm left as Scott approached.

"If you're going to stay here, you have to work on that killer disposition of yours. I don't care if Magneto wants to use your claws for roasting apples over a fire, " Scott said. "I will not let another student get hurt. "

Logan glared at him. "Something tells me this is not about my temper, or about Marie, is it?"

"What?" Scott demanded irritably. Logan was taking the aggressive approach.

"I've served with men like you. Naïve. Rule-following. You know what happens to those men in real combat?" Logan growled.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Scott said angrily.

"You don't like the looks I'm giving your girl. And you don't like how she's looking back, and you think you're man enough to do something about it, don't ya, boy scout?"

Scott's visor started glowing red with his fury. _Snic!_ Logan placed a hand on Scott's shoulder, a claw extended. "You think you can blast the meat of my bones before I gut you like a fish? Come on, let's find out!"

"Logan! Scott! Stop this!" Logan turned around. There was the Professor and Jean Grey.

Logan had it. "What is the point, Chuck?"

"The point of what?" Charles asked. Logan gestured around him.

"The whole thing. Gathering wayward mutants here and teaching 'em classic literature. The world is filled out there with people who hate mutants and want you dead and you think you can make a difference?" Logan said.

Xavier had heard this argument before. "That's Magneto talking. The only reason mutant haters seem so many in number is because they shout so loud."

"No, this is me talking, not Magneto! It's been thirty-two hours and you still don't know what that magnetic freak wants with me," Logan growled. "and you haven't helped me remember anything, either!"

"I believe Magneto wants you for your adamantium," Xavier said calmly.

"My…" Logan reached for something hanging from his neck, something that wasn't there.

"Your dog tags were made of adamantium, too, weren't they?" Charles prodded.

Logan was silent for a moment. "Yes," he admitted.

Gambit and Wesley entered the room.

"Who's that?" Logan snapped, looking at Gambit.

"This is Gambit, Gambit, this is Logan." Wesley said. "Man, Logan, you've been out all day. Those romance writers don't kid around when they say what a girl's touch can do, eh? Speaking of which, where's Marie? Haven't seen her all day."

Charles Xavier closed his eyes for a moment, telepathically scanning the school.

"She's gone."

------------------------------------------------

There's that chapter. Sorry for the long wait.

I decided something. There will be very little angst in this story, the bare minimum. Angst is not good. Life is hard enough, we don't need to read depressing literature.

Please leave a review for the story!.


	9. Trip to the mall and unwelcome visitors

Hey ya'll. Thanks for the reviews, London Vixen, Ryan268, Lovestoread, Morgaine of the Faeries.

Yea, I brought Gambit in. They _really _should have made Gambit and Jubilee characters in the movies. Well, Jubilee technically was in the movie, but just barely. Oh, and I did take the 'I hate machines!' line from the cartoon series, as well as the fact she often accidentally fries her electronic stuff.

By the way, I decided Bobby is not that nice. He dumps Rogue in the last film and goes out with Kitty, so in this story Bobby and Rogue are merely friends. If Bobby really cared about Rogue, that fact that he couldn't touch her would not make much of a difference. Ryan suggested a Romy, and so this story will be one.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She's gone." Xavier said.

"Gone?!" Logan snarled. "You can't even keep track of a teenager?!"

"Calm down, Logan. We can find her," Xavier said. "This way."

-----------

"I probably shouldn't ask," Wesley said, "but do you put this in the brochure for the school?" He waved a hand at the steel passageways of the lower levels of the institute. Scott gave him a stern look, and Remy laughed. Xavier pressed his eye to a retinal scanner.

**Identity confirmed. Charles Xavier.**

The circular doors separated, revealing a small walkway in an enormous, empty room.

"It sure is a big, round room," Logan said. He put out his cigar on the palm of his hand.

"Is this your office?" Gambit asked. Jean smiled slightly.

"This is Cerebro," the Professor said. "It amplifies my powers, and lets me find any mutant on the planet."

"Why don't you use it to find Magneto?" Logan asked.

"He's somehow found a way to block it." Xavier said, apparently prepping the machine.

"Why don't you just track his cohorts for a while, and use them to find Magneto?" Wesley asked.

Xavier didn't reply, just putting on a helmet. The trio joined the X-Men by the doorway.

_And they call themselves Homo superior,_ Wesley thought. "Ah!" He suddenly tripped. Jean smirked and Gambit helped him up.

"Westchester Mall," Xavier said, taking off the helmet. "Storm, Cyclops, go."

"I'm going with." Logan said immediately.

"No, Logan, you stay here. This could be a trap to get you away from the school," Professor X said. Logan glanced at Scott, then Jean, and grinned.

"Sure, I'll stay," he said.

-----------------------------------------------------

Rogue wandered aimlessly around the mall. She didn't belong back there. She just hurt everyone. She collapsed on a bench and watched people go by. Two teenagers, holding hands. A mother with a toddler in a stroller. An old couple. There she was, unable to touch someone for more than a few seconds without nearly killing him. Human contact all around, the thing she was denied.

"Rogue." The girl turned, the signs of tears on her face. It was Storm. Rogue got up.

"You don't have to run," Storm said. Rogue surrendered, and sat back down.

"I'm tired of being like this. I'm tired of hurting people," she said, starting to cry. "What purpose does this serve?"

Storm tried to comfort her. "We can help you, Rogue. Come back with us." Rogue was silent for a minute, just staring at her gloved hands. She finally looked up at Storm, and her expression suddenly twisted from grief to terror. Storm turned around, and Sabertooth grabbed her by the throat, picking her up off her feet.

"You owe me a scream," he growled. He got many screams from shoppers as they ran away.

Scott turned, hearing the panic, easily locating them. He raised his hand, preparing to shoot. A tongue suddenly snaked down from high on the wall, snagging his visor away. Startled, he looked up, blasting the roof of the mall to pieces.

"Everyone get out of here!" Scott bellowed, clenching his eyes tightly shut.

-----------------

Professor Xavier gasped, feeling the attack telepathically. "Dear God." He wheeled as fast as he could to the garage.

---------------------

Sabertooth effortlessly picked Storm up by her throat and bashed her against the wall, visibly damaging it. Storm tried to breath as Sabertooth was strangling her. Her eyes slowly turned white. Sabertooth looked up. The calm night sky produced a lighting bolt, which curved through the hole in the ceiling and neatly struck Sabertooth. The energy propelled the apart, and the two members of the Brotherhood left.

-

Rogue bent over Storm and tried to check her vital signs. "She's not breathing! Somebody help!" Nearly everyone had fled, though, leaving her alone.

"Rogue?" Scott called out.

"I'm over here! Storm's not breathing! Help!" Rogue screamed.

"I-I can't see! You'll have to show me the way!" Scott shouted, stumbling on rubble. She ran over and grabbed his coat sleeve, tugging him along as fast as he wold go. Scott kneeled and felt for a sign that Storm was alive. He started rescue breathing, hoping it wasn't to late.

----

Professor Xavier exited his car. He looked around at his group. Storm was unconscious, being carried by Scott, who had his eyes shut and couldn't see was being led by the sound of Rogue's voice, who couldn't touch anyone, and he was in a wheelchair, unable to walk.

-----------------------------------------------

Logan walked down the hallway, listening. He opened a door, leading into the school's gym. Jean was on a workout bench doing presses on her back with an average size set of free-weights. He glanced around. On the other side of the gym were Wesley and Gambit, sparring. Wesley threw a light punch, only to have Gambit catch it and throw the man over his shoulder. Without missing a beat, Wesley swept his feet and caught Gambit below the knees, taking him down.

Logan looked at a set of weights a few feet off at an exercise station. One hundred pounds, two hundred, thee hundred, evenly up to two thousand. Just on one set of weights.

Logan strolled over next to Jean. She saw him, and, startled, dropped the weights. He caught them with one hand.

"You should never work without a spotter," He said.

"He's busy right now." Jean replied shortly, recovered from her surprise.

"So I noticed. What say we go into town?" He asked.

"Not interested." Jean said. Logan shrugged and let go of the weights. Taken off guard, Jean failed to receive them, and Logan had to save her from getting smashed.

"Let go," She commanded.

"Suit yourself." Logan said. He let go. So did Jean. The weights hovered next to her telekinetically as she sat up. He smiled.

--------

Rogue ran up to the school, and climbed through an open window.

---------------------

Jean was wiping her face off from her workout. "He's uptight." Logan said.

"He takes his work seriously," Jean said.

"He takes himself seriously," Logan countered. Jean frowned. She held up one hand and pointed to her ring.

"Do you know what this is, Logan?" She asked. "It's a ring."

"I've seen a lot of rings," Logan said.

"What is it you are failing to get at, Logan? Are you interested in me? Is that it?" She asked.

"LOGAN!"

They both turned. There stood Rogue, panting, nearly doubled over in the doorway. "The Professor wants you to come with me right now!" Gambit and Wesley heard her shout and came over.

"Marie? Where have you been all day?" Wesley asked. She looked at him briefly, then spoke again to Logan.

"Is dis de southern bell dat I needed to meet?" Gambit asked.

"The professor wants you right now!" Rogue said insistently, ignoring Gambit.

"Logan, you'd better go with her." Jean said. Logan looked at Jean, then took a few steps forward.

"Hey Rogue, tell Jean what you told me the other night." Logan said. Rogue looked confused.

"The Professor…"

"You remember. About woman," Logan said casually, closing the distance between them. "No matter what you say about them being the same-" **Snick! **The claws came out on one hand, and he threw the girl against the wall with the other "-No two smell alike!" He roared, grabbing her.

"Logan! Let her go!" Jean shouted. She waved a hand and a wooden vaulting horse rose. Gambit took out his Bo staff and it extended to its full length.

"Her skin isn't hurting him!" Wesley shouted, noticing Logan's hand firmly around Rogue's bare neck with no ill side affects. He drew a handgun from a thigh holster. "That's not Marie!" They all froze for a moment as the entire gym vibrated.

With a loud grinding sound, the wall tore open. A man floated gently in, wearing a bizarre cape and helmet. "Bright lad."

Without hesitating, Jean hurled the vaulting horse at Magneto. Three thousand pounds of steel weights disintegrated it in mid-air. "I can only effect metal," Magneto said. "But it serves me well enough." The row of lockers behind Jean rose and smashed her to the ground. Gambit's bo staff came to life and pinned him to the mat, slowly squeezing his windpipe. **BLAM! **Wesley managed to fire one shot before the pistol was ripped from his hands and floated in front of him. The bullet he fired slowly came to a stop in front of Magneto before dropping to the ground. 'Rogue' suddenly melted away and became the blue Mystique.

"What do you want with me?!" Logan demanded, all six claws out.

"I need your help. You must come with me." Magneto said calmly.

"Why would I do that?" Logan sneered.

"Because if you don't, I'll kill all three of your friends here. Besides, it's a very noble cause." Magneto said with a dignified air.

"Why would I care about them?" Logan snarled. "The only thing that matters to me is whether I get out of here alive."

"Very good point," Magneto said. "So why don't you just be merciful and kill her then?" He asked, pointing at the unconscious Jean Grey. Logan hesitated. "Your claws will be much more quick and merciful than me. Or," he said as if uncertain. "Maybe I'll just cripple her. Make her wheelchair bound, like Charles. How does that sound?" **Blam! **Wesley's handgun fired once, missing on purpose.

"Don't try sneaking out of my line of sight again," Magneto commanded Wesley. Gambit gasped for air. Magneto turned back to Logan. "So, what do you say?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, that was that. A tad different then the movie, eh?

Leave a review if you liked it. Also, you should add me to your story alert, so you'll know when I update.

Return to Top


	10. What to do

Hi everyone. Thanks for the reviews, **Lovestoread**, and **LondonVixen. **I greatly appreciate each and every review. They really brighten the day.

I was thinking. It might be fun to include a few characters from X-Men Evolution as minor characters in this story, wouldn't it? Better than just saying 'a student' every time, don't you agree?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't believe it!" Xavier said. He slammed a fist on his desk, visibly angry. "He lured me away from the mansion so he could get Logan! And I fell for it!" His X-Men, plus Rogue, Gambit, and Wesley, stood uneasily before him. Magneto had successfully kidnapped Logan, but on the upside, no one had been killed or badly injured.

"What do we do now? Inform the authorities?" Wesley asked.

"No, that would not be wise," Xavier said. "I'll use cerebro to locate him, and then you three will go get him back." He rubbed his head. "I should have guessed this would happen. A child could have seen that plan."

"Doctor Grey?" A girl, maybe fourteen, asked meekly from the doorway. "Someone wants to see you."

"Okay. Thank you, Magma." Jean said. A blond man stepped into the room, dressed in swimming trunks and a t-shirt. He looked ill, pale and sweating profusely.

"Senator Kelley?" Jean asked, shocked.

"Dr. Grey?" Kelley said. He stumbled into the room, catching himself before he fell.

"How did you get in?" Storm said.

"There was a hole in your door." Kelley said. He held up his hands shakily, indicating a hole the size of a coffee can. "I squeezed through."

"What happened to you?" Scott asked.

"I-I need help," Kelley said, "Magneto, he-he did something to me. I was afraid to go to the hospital. I, I thought-"

"They'd treat you like a mutant?" Xavier asked. "Not all of us are bad."

"Tell that to the ones that did this to me." Kelley said.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Senator was lying on a bed in the infirmary, covered with a light sheet. It was already soaked with sweat after four minutes.

"Senator, I need you to relax for a moment." Xavier said. "I need to find out what Magneto did to you." He placed his hands next to the Senator's head.

-------

"Where are we?" Kelley asked. He leaned over and glanced out the window, saw what looked like an island prison, far below. They were landing on it.

---

"You know, people like you were the reason I was afraid to go to school." Mystique said, striking him, knocking him down.

---

"Are you a God-fearing man, Senator?" Magneto asked. Kelley struggled. He was tied to a chair. Magneto walked up to a strange device. Something shiny dangled from his hands. He placed it on the machine, and stepped back. "Well, don't fear God anymore, and don't fear me."

---

"Welcome to the future…"

---

A child on the beach tugged at her mother. "Mommy, is that a mutant?"

-------

Xavier gasped, and leaned back in his chair.

"Well?" Gambit asked. "What did you see?"

"Magneto has created a device." Xavier said slowly. "That activates the x-gene in humans. It creates a radioactive wave that spreads out. He wants to turn humans into mutants. And…" he looked at his X-Men, pained. "It seems that it somehow requires adamantium to run it. Apparently, it has such tremendous amounts of energy that it requires an extremely powerful filament. That's why Magneto wants Logan. He's going to use him to run the machine!"

"And he used Senator Kelley to test it out on," Jean Grey said. "It seems he succeeded in activating the x-gene, but failed to take into account the rest of his body. It's reproducing mutated cells so rapidly, it's like cancer, not how it's supposed naturally at all. The senator is over fifty years old. His body can't take that strain." She took out a cotton swab. "I need to give him an IV to try to lower the fever." She wiped his shoulder, and her finger brushed his skin. She cried out and jerked her hand back.

"What's wrong?" Wesley asked.

"I burned my fingers!" Jean said. She looked at the unconscious man.

"Oh no." Scott said. Jean took the cap off a bottle of rubbing alcohol and let a few drops fall on his arm. Flames sprung up for a few moments, then faded away. Gambit looked down. The floor around the medical bed was wet with a thick, clear substance. The man was literally melting away. Jean turned away, covering her eyes as the man died.

---------------------------------------------

Charles Xavier activated cerebro swiftly. Senator Kelley was dead, and if Xavier didn't act quickly, many more might share his fate. He put the helmet on, searching for Logan. Then he felt it. He strained, trying to get the helmet off, to escape the pain. He collapsed. Jean rushed in.

----------------------------------------------------

Scott carefully placed the Professor on a medical bed, while Jean check his vital signs. "What happened?" She asked, hooking him up to several monitors. Scott held up a small vial of poison. "Apparently our visitor left something in cerebro. Magneto covered his tracks."

"Can't someone else use cerebro and find Logan?" Gambit asked. Wesley had headed to his car to get something.

"No, Gambit, the Professor was the only one strong telepathically to use it." Scott said irritably. "If someone untrained, like Jean used it, it would be dangerous." Jean glanced at him.

"I'll be back in a minute. "

Jean jogged lightly down the passageway. She paused, pressing her eye to the scanner at the door. Several hundred feet behind her, Scott saw what she was doing.

"No, Jean, don't do it!" He yelled, running down the hall. She ducked into the room, and mentally willed the door to shut quickly.

She was the only option left. She had to use cerebro, or others would pay the price. She hurriedly turned on the supercomputer and put the helmet on.

Scott reached the door and accessed it. The scanner read his eye, and the door opened. He ripped the helmet off Jean's head. She was barely able to stand.

"The Statue of Liberty. That's where the Brotherhood is." She told him. "And they have the machine there."

"Good Lord," Scott said, "from there they could wipe out half of New York City. We have to stop him." Jean gave him a look.

"Talk about stating the obvious."

---------------------------------

"Promise me you'll never do that again," Scott demanded, finishing putting on the x uniform.

"I promise never to do that again," Jean said obediently. Scott kissed her. "Unless I think the situation calls for it." She finished.

"Arh." Scott growled. "And now we have to go rescue that animal of a mutant."

"Aww," Jean said playfully. "Don't let him annoy you."

"Fine." Scott agreed. "But next time he calls me sport, I'll blow a watermelon-sized hole in his chest!" Jean gave him a hug.

"I love you, Scott." Jean said quietly. "And don't you forget that." They joined up with Storm.

"I left a note for the three others," Storm said. "I fear they may be upset they learn we left them behind."

"They'll be fine." Scott said, unconcerned. Storm typed a code into the door, and they walked into the hanger. The Blackbird's ramp lowered, and the three walked in.

Rogue, Gambit, and Wesley were already strapped in and waiting.

"How the heck did you get in here?!" Scott snapped.

"I would like to know that myself." Storm put in. Wesley smiled brightly.

"That's Gambit's little secret," the Cajun said, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Right, Rogue?" She nodded.

"What's with the outfit?" Scott questioned, looking at Wesley. He now sported a black bulletproof/tactical vest, and in one hand was a helmet.

"I should ask you the same thing. Can you actually do more than casual walking while wearing that?" Wesley asked. "I'd hate to see what would happen if it shrank in the washing machine. But then, it seems it already did." Gambit and Rogue tried to keep from laughing too loudly. Storm didn't seem to appreciate the young man's humor.

"I don't think you three should come with." Jean said, managing to keep Scott from blowing up. "This will be extremely dangerous."

"You'll ruin the mission," Scott said bluntly.

"I do this kind of thing for a living," Wesley said. "I work for ARGUS Corporation. 'ARGUS' stands for 'Armed Guardian Services'. We do VIP protection and guard locations." No one spoke for a moment.

"You're, um, a mercenary?" Rogue asked.

"A private military contractor, to be precise," Wesley said. "What's with that look?"

"What look?" Cyclops asked. Wesley nodded at Rogue.

"You look like I just said I do assassinations on the weekend," he said. "My occupation is perfectly legal. I don't overthrow governments or take over nuclear bases and threaten to nuke the world if I don't get five hundred million dollars in a Swiss bank account. I'm an expensive bodyguard and security guard, not a bad guy."

"Fine, we believe you," Scott said. He looked at Gambit, showing frustration. "You never said what your power was. Spill the beans." Gambit reached into his pocket, and took out a playing card. It turned a bright orange, and he tossed it on the floor. It exploded.

"He can charge objects with kinetic energy, causing them to explode. He can also control how big the explosion is," Wesley said.

"A little Gambit magic," Remy put in.

"You of all people shouldn't go," Jean said to Wesley. "If Magneto activates his machine, the odds of you surviving are painfully low."

"If he activates his machine, wouldn't that mean you all were killed, along with Logan, and the city of New York will be wiped out?" Rogue asked.

The X-Men hesitated before answering that.

"Well," Jean finally said to Scott. "Do they come?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You answer that question. Does Scott allow the trio to go with, or not? State your opinion, in your review.


	11. Feel like a tour?

Here's an update. I apologize for taking so long, but several factors have delayed my writing. Just for that, this chapter is huge. Or at least it seemed huge writing it.

Thanks to reviewers: **London Vixen, Ryan 268, Spedclass.**

Ryan had a little question in his review. My response? Well, I guess that it was pretty obvious that my original character, Rogue, and Gambit would go along. I've been looking forward to this chapter since I started writing the story.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scott glared at everyone for a moment before responding. He looked at Wesley. "Fine. You three can come. But **I **am the commander of this team, and you **will** follow my orders on this mission. Is that clear?"

--------------

A small crowd of students clustered at a window, watching as the Blackbird took off into the night.

-------------

"Liberty Island, eta, five minutes," Jean said. The jet tore through the dark sky at an incredible speed. It was barely noticeable inside the plane, though.

Jean looked at their new teammates. Rogue was obviously pretty nervous. Gambit was playing with some cards, looking far more bored than afraid or anxious. Wesley was praying. She tried to get a better look at the helmet he had brought. It looked like a police riot helmet, except the visor was reflective and opaque from the outside, and the helmet itself appeared very solidly built.

"And there's the statue," Scott said as the jet neared the destination.

"Looks normal," Storm said.

------------

Logan opened his eyes and tried to move.

"Awake already, are you?" Magneto said. Logan managed to look around, still drugged and slightly delirious. He was in a tiny room, barely enough space for both him and Magneto.

"Where am I?" He said.

"In the backstage of an encore of creation," Magento replied.

"What-" Logan asked weakly. "What are you going to do?"

"When those leaders return to their homes, they will be mutants, our brothers. By whatever means necessary, we must ensure our own survival. Moreover, in the road to survival, there are sacrifices. You understand, don't you, Logan. Or, is it Wolverine.?" Magneto said.

He looked at his watch. "Fifteen minutes to curtain." He spoke into a radio. "Sabertooth, lights."

----

Sabertooth viscously hacked away at the locked cabinet the controls were in. He ripped off the door, and turned a switch.

-----

"The Statues lights are off," Scott observed.

"We noticed," Remy said.

"Storm, some cover. I'm taking her down," Scott said. The blackbird rapidly descended to one hundred feet above the water, just as a heavy fog rolled in.

----

As soon as Magneto left the room, Logan struggled against the bonds. No use. _Shink! _He tried his claws. No luck. He was tied at the wrists and couldn't get his claws at the handcuffs.

-----

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free," Magneto recited, leaning against the railing surrounding the walkway around the flames of the torch. He raised to hands and focused. The hilt of the torch, below Lady Liberty's hand, split, and fell away. He looked down. Fog obscured his view of the Statue's base. He looked over at Ellis Island, a mile away. No fog. He spoke into his radio. "Everyone, be careful. We may have company."

-----

The Blackbird hovered down for a moment, then put down on the water with a jolt.

"Sorry," Scott said.

"That wasn't exactly a landing," Gambit said, looking out his window.

"How do we exit the plane?" Rogue asked. Jean pressed a button, and a small door opened, above water level.

"Oh."

A few moments later they were gathered at Lady Liberty's base.

"We should check out operations, see if the secret service is still around," Scott said. Gambit something. He looked up.

"Object! Look out!" Gambit shouted, grabbing Rogue and leaping away. The others followed suit. The two halves of the torch's hilt came screaming through the air and smashed intro the ground, before bouncing into the river.

"Okay," Scott said. "I'm guessing that means the Secret Service has been taken out. Jean, can you levitate us up there?"

She shook her head. "To far."

"Okay. Storm, Rogue, take the south entrance. Jean and I will go into the main entrance. Gambit, Wesley, there's a service entrance to the west. All of you, make your way to the torch. Go," Scott ordered.

----

Wesley and Gambit looked at the heavy steel door that was their entrance. Wesley kicked it. It didn't budge. He tried again, to no effect.

"Gambit can handle this," Remy said. He took a card out, and placed the glowing object in the crack between the door and the frame. Both men immediately flattened themselves against opposite sides of the door frame. There was a small explosion, and the door swung open. The door led to a small corridor, past the security booth. Wesley glanced over. The guard was dead, his weapon and equipment gone. Gambit studied the small TV's, looking through the cameras around the statue.

"Can't see much," he said. "But it looks like the others made it in. Let's go."

-----

At the dock, a tarp slid off a metal object as it levitated off the boat. Magneto carefully brought it higher and higher, finally squeezing it through the space in the torch he created, like batteries into a flashlight.

--

Logan backed up to the wall behind him. _Shink! _His claws came out, and he crudely cut a hole in the metal behind him. Pausing for a moment, he ground the cuffs against the ragged edge of the metal until a link broke. He was free. He climbed through the hole, and looked around in surprise, realizing where he was. He looked over at Ellis Island, then at the machine, and it dawned on him exactly what Magneto would do.

--

"Lights on," Magneto said, the machine in place. The statues lights returned to full power.

Magneto stepped proudly back into the torch, his machine wedged just above his head. He caught sight of the hole immediately. He touched the rim lightly. It was coated with blood and small bits of flesh.

"Sabertooth," He called. "Find him."

---

Scott and Jean were making progress through the maze of hallways and rooms. The small hallway opened up into another historic room, filled with glass display cases and six-foot Statues of Liberty. They reached the middle of the room. And the lights went out. Scott spun around, putting his hand to his visor. A statue came to life and kicked him squarely in the chest. He stumbled backwards. Jean pointed her hand, and Mystique was lifted into the air, thrashing and shouting. Scott took the opportunity to blast her, launching her into the next room, out of sight. There was a low croak behind them. Jean turned. A glob of slime landed on her face. Scott sent rapid blasts of energy around the room, hopefully getting the enemy. He looked at Jean. The slime had hardened, forming a solid mask on her face, suffocating her. She tried to pry it off. Scott gripped the edge and jerked it, only making Jean turn her head. He lowered her to the floor swiftly.

"Jean! Don't move!" He said loudly. She was still for a moment. He adjusted his visor, and vaporized the slime. She gasped for air, and her expression changed from relief to horror. Scott turned.

**Wham! **Sabertooth smashed him to the ground

---------

"Well done," Magneto said. "One team down, two to go." He admired his handiwork. The steel support beams were now a cage. If Jean or Scott moved more than a few inches, the points of the metal would tear into their skin.

"Jean?" Scott whispered, his eyes shut, now visor-less. Jeans face was three inches from his. If he opened his eyes, she would be killed instantly. "Can you…?"

"I'm sorry, Scott," she said. "I'm not that strong."

--------

Remy and Wesley were getting jumpy. They hadn't encountered anything yet. And since most of the Statue had the lights off, the security camera's were blind, making them useless to Wesley. Remy suddenly turned, a card glowing brightly in his hand, illuminating the dark room. Wesley assumed a fighting stance.

"Whoa, it's just us," Rogue said, Storm a few paces away. The card dimmed and faded back to normal.

"Sorry," Remy said.

"Find anything?" Storm asked.

"Nothing. You?" Wesley said. Rogue shook her head.

A living rope snapped from high up, catching Storm around the waist, and sending her sailing to the next floor up, which overlooked their position.

Time seemed to slow. Gambit threw a card at the ceiling. It exploded, raining debris down on their heads. A lion's roar came from the upper level. Storm's scream echoed peirced the air.

Gambit looked over at Rogue.

"Run girl! Run!" He shouted. She took off. A section of pipe flew at Wesley, barely missing his head.

Mystique came out of nowhere, attacking Gambit, pushing him back with an acrobatic fighting style, forcing him on the defensive.

The rope, no, _a tongue,_ wrapped around Welsey's ankle, yanking it out from under him. He fell, then regained his feet. He looked around, reached for something. Toad opened his mouth again, and suddenly Wesley's hands were bound together. The human stepped behind a pole and heaved, using the tongue to close the fight's distance. Toad was flung forward, but landed in an impressive display of agility, swinging a punch. Wesley stepped up, blocked the punch, and rammed his knee into Toad's groin. He groaned, staggering for a moment. Wesley picked him up with one arm, head bashed him, then threw the unconscious thug into an elegant glass display case.

"Mr. Lichtenfeld, my thanks," Wesley said, to someone not present. "From one inferior being to another."

--------

Gambit jumped away from the kick, dodging Mystique's blow. The Brotherhood had managed to separate them, and Mystique apparently decided to be the brave soul that would try to beat Remy. Brave, but stupid. Mystique seized a steel rod and swung. Gambit twisted his body to avoid the strike, and kicked the woman in the side of the head.

"Gambit can do better than that!" The Cajun exclaimed, taking his staff out in one fluid movement. Mystique hesitated for a faction of a second. The staff whistled, and she barely avoided a cracked skull. Gambit grinned, sweeping the staff at her knees and knocking Mystique down. She fled.

--------

Wesley burst into the room and took in his surroundings. Jean Grey and Scott Summers were trapped in a mess of steel. Storm was pinned to the wall a few feet off.

"Run!" Jean shouted. "Get away!"

"Get away?" Magneto said, floating down from the torch. He raised his hand.

"Do you know exactly how much metal is in your helmet and that vest?" Magneto asked. "Quite enough." He slammed Wesley against the wall.

"As you are the only human present, you deserve a better view of this event. How this?" Magneto questioned. Several gray beams came to life, tossed Wesley upwards, and pinned him to a metal rod extending horizontally across the ceiling. Magneto took out a pair of handcuffs, and Wesley was handcuffed to it, fifteen or so feet above their heads.

"Here's a little something to stand on," The elderly man said. To pieces of metal, roughly the size of drill bits, embedded themselves in the wall five feet below Wesley, providing him with a very unstable perch.

"Now on to business," Magneto said. He raised his voice. "Logan. I know you can here me. If you do not come back here in five minutes, I will kill these four friends of Xavier, including the woman from the gym. I think they came here to rescue you. So kind of them, wasn't it?"

-------

Down at the docks of Liberty Island, Logan turned, having clearly heard Magneto. He looked at the torch, then at the speedboat in front of him.

--------

Rogue was lost. She had ran from the fight like Gambit told her, and couldn't find anyone. She turned the corner and literally ran into Logan.

"Logan!" She said. "We have to help Storm, and the others!"

"I'm going to go back and get them, kid," Logan said. "But first I have to get you to a safe place. Take my hand." Rogue was startled. She looked down at her bare hands, confused. Logan grew impatient.

"Take it!"

--

Hidden in the shadows a few yards away, Remy LeBeau paused, and took a quick glance at Rogue and 'Logan'.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked the chapter, and please leave a review.


	12. Liberty Island

Hey yall, I decided to update sooner this time.

By the way, I hope a few people may have gotten what I meant in the last chapter when Wesley thanked Mr. Lichtenfeld. He was the guy who invented Krav Maga to fight against Nazis with in World War 2. Get it? Nazis believed that they were the superior race, and that all others were inferior, and Magneto thinks mutants are superior and humans are inferior?

Oh well. On with the chapter.

Oh, and thanks for reviewing, Spedclass, and LondonVixen. I notice and appreciate every review.

-------------------------------------------------------------

_This mission is definitely not going like I hoped it would, _Jean reflected. She and Scott were in a metal cage, and if Scott opened his eyes, she would be killed by his optic blast. Storm was a few yards away, also secured and unable to do anything. Wesley was about fifteen feet above them, handcuffed to a pipe running across the ceiling, trying to stand on the precarious perch Magneto had given him. At least Magneto hadn't simply killed him. Logan had apparently already escaped, no thanks to the X-Men, and who knew where Gambit and Rogue were?

Magneto was getting frustrated by Logan's absence. "You had better hope he comes back, or I'll send Charles my deepest regrets over your untimely deaths," he informed them. He glanced at his watch, then rose out of the room, leaving Sabertooth guarding them.

_Jean! Can you hear me? _She glanced up, hearing the whisper in her mind.

_I hear you, Wes. What? _She telepathically replied.

_I need you to get something out of my pocket. I can't reach it. Third pocket from the left, there's a bobby pin. Can you put it in my hands? _He asked.

_Why, exactly? _

He started getting impatient. Jean could almost feel his fury building at being captured so easily. _I can pick these handcuffs with the bobby pin. Just get it out of the pocket and into my hands. _

She focused. The tiny pin carefully made it's way out of the pocket. He opened his hand, and the metal touched his palm. _Where'd you learn that? Special forces training? _Jean asked.

_Gambit taught me, _he said, bending the pin against the handcuffs, then sliding it into the lock.

Sabertooth paced a few times in front of the prisoners. His attention turned to Storm, and backhanded her. "Scream," he growled. He swung lightly--and his hand stopped halfway, telekinetically slowed. He looked at Jean, and grinned.

Above them, the handcuffs clicked quietly as one lock opened.

Sabertooth smacked Jean, laughing at her attempt to telekinetically stop him. It was driving Scott insane, but there was nothing in the world he could do.

The other lock was released. Wesley nearly lost his balance, grabbing onto the pipe. He looked down, gauging the distance between him and Sabertooth. He grabbed onto the pipe, swung himself forward, and let go. Jean gave Sabertooth a mental shove, causing him to stumble backwards. Wesley collided with the much bigger mutant, knocking him down. Wesley rolled away, groaning. He hadn't anticipated how painful it would be. Sabertooth regained his feet in a second. Wesley swung weakly. Sabertooth didn't bother to block the punch. He picked him up and threw him against the wall. Wesxley slumped to the floor, dazed and injured. Sabertooth stood over him.

"Now die," he growled. He lifted one enormous foot to crush him.

They both turned, hearing the sound. A layer of orange, glowing pebbles were now scattered across the floor. There was silence for a moment, while several people were staring at the hypnotically glowing pebbles. Wesley laughed.

The pebbles exploded, thoroughly blinding everyone in the room. There was a rustle of cloth.

"Now don't you run away too," Gambit said, twirling his staff. Sabertooth roared and charged at him.

"Dat's right! Be a man!" Gambit said. He swung. The bo staff connected neatly with Sabertooth's temple. Gambit casually tossed a card behind himself, blowing a hole of the crown of the Statue of Liberty. Sabertooth charged again. Gambit jumped, placing his hands on Sabertooth's shoulders as he flipped over him. He landed smoothly, and kicked Sabertooth in the back. With a cry, Sabertooth tumbled through the hole and plummeted into the bay.

"Great! Can you free us?" Storm asked.

"If I can," Gambit said. He pried at the metal. It wouldn't budge.

"My patience has run thin," Magneto said, floating down into the room. "I let you live and this is how you repay me?" He raised a hand. Gambit was tied to the wall. Wesley shot into the air and smashed into the ceiling. "I'll finish you all off, one at a time!"

_Shink! _The sound of cut metal rang out.

"Ahh!" Magneto screamed, failing to his knees. He lost his concentration. Wesley plummeted back to the ground.

"Ahh!" Wesley screamed. He hit the floor, and didn't move.

Blood poured from Magneto's leg, and he collapsed. Logan ran up the stairway. He gazed at the downed Magneto for a moment, and walked over to Jean, one claw out to free her. Magneto struggled to his feet.

"Logan! Watch out!" Storm shouted. Steel support girders wrapped themselves around Logan, and unceremoniously threw him into place on the machine. Magneto raised his hands, and the top half of the torch burst, revealing the machine, Logan in place, securely tied with metal. The machine started rotating around Logan, charging.

Mystique walked calmly up the stairs. She surveyed her surroundings, then stared at the machine, a look of awe on her face.

"You have to stop him," Jean pleaded. "His machine, it kills people. You have to stop him!"

"Ah, there you are, dear." Magneto said to Mystique, operating his machine.

"Don't listen to her," Mystique said. "It's a trap."

"What's a trap?" Magneto asked. The machine was rotating at almost blinding speed now, very nearly charged.

"This is," Mystique said. She placed both hands on Magneto's face and kissed him. There was an awkward moment. Then Magneto started struggling. Mystique's blue form melted away, turning into Rogue, quickly draining Magneto's energy. Magneto placed a hand on Rogue's throat and started strangling her. The girl raised one hand, and used the stolen power to bend a piece of metal away from Scott's head. But without his visor, he was still helpless.

--

Logan tried to shift and look down, searching for Jean. Suddenly the machine hummed to life, fully charged. The orb around Logan became invisible at it spun. He tried to move. His fists were bound to his chest. He started feeling the heat.

---

Back on Ellis Island, a secret service agent nudged his fellow guard, and pointed. A shining wave, almost bubble, was coming from the Statue of Liberty. It grew, covering Liberty Island. Diplomats caught sight of it. Screams broke out, and people fled in terror.

--

Rogue and Magneto were killing each other in front of the X-Men. It was a race to see if Magneto would faint first or strangle Rogue.

--

Logan struggled valiantly to no avail. He tried to look down, looking for Jean. He couldn't see her. His skeleton was now glowing brightly through his flesh, heating up to searing temperatures. He screamed in pain.

--

Magneto and Rogue collapsed, hitting the floor simultaneously.

--

Logan claw's came out, stabbing himself in the chest, and slicing the bonds that held him. He stood up, and slashed forward, destroying the machine. Pieces of debris flew into the distance.

--

Jean focused, and Scott's visor flew off Magneto's belt and onto Scott's face. He opened his eyes. She adjusted his visor, and he smoothly vaporized the chunks of metal around her, then set himself free. Logan staggered down as Scott finished, releasing Gambit. Jean bent over Wesley, feeling for a pulse. He had one. And he already had a fever.

"Logan, you're wounded," Storm said with concern.

"I'll be fine…" Logan said, tottering unsteadily. Scott caught him before he hit the ground. He skeleton had cooled down somewhat.

"Sure you will be, Sport," Scott said, not unkindly.

----------------------------------------------------

Well, I leave it at this. By the way, If I didn't make it clear enough, the radioactive wave Magneto's machine produced did hit Wesley and activated his dormant x-gene.

I hope I did Gambit justice. Had to change the fight around somewhat, hopefully not mauling the story too badly.

If you liked it, please leave a review. Anonymous reviews _are _enabled.

One more thing. In the event this story makes it's way to X-Men 3, I say we leave Phoenix out of it. In the comics Phoenix was some entity living in the sun or something, not Jean Grey's alter ego. That would save Scott, The Professor, and Jean from death, making X-Men a little happier. In fact, if you folks didn't like the plot for X3, I could use a different one.


	13. Back at School

Here's the next chapter in the story.

Ryan268 asked if Wesley was using telepathy to communicate with Jean. Let me clarify if anyone was wondering that. Wesley is not a telepath. Reading fanfiction and X-Men stuff has given me the impression that Jean Grey can 'hear' thoughts. I thought I would incorporate that element into my story.

I have a general plot idea in mind for X3, but will take suggestions. Oh, and one more thing. I think that X-Men, since it is set in the Marvel Universe, should show it. Throughout this story, some other Marvel characters may quite likely make small appearances. If you would like a specific character to show up, make a request, by all means. Oh, and the plot for X3 will have some angst, but I give my word of honor that it will end VERY happily, so happily, it will be like the angst never occurred.

By the way, I must comment on two things.

Number one: Hope you all had a happy Easter! At Easter, we celebrate the Jesus Christ rose from the dead after being dead three days. Pretty impressive feat, eh?

Number two: The shooting at the school in Virginia was tragic. It is yet another sad indicator of how the 'weapons free zone' idea we had upheld at schools has backfired. Even if 500 law-abiding citizens obey and leave all weapons at home, all it needs is one disturbed individual to go, take his guns, and slaughter the now unarmed crowd. In Israel they let the school teachers carry firearms, and that has greatly prevented terrorists from using school kids as hostages.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The SWAT officer swept his flashlight from right to left through the dim room. There were signs of a struggle. He didn't notice the blue shape on the ground at first. He swept the light back. The secret service agent struggled against his bonds.

"Hey, untie me!"

--

Another officer was standing in the security booth. He rewound a tape, and pushed play. Blank. He tried another. Blank. All of them were blank, even the ones from a few weeks past. All erased somehow.

--

Two officers started treating Magneto's wounds, and another securely bound him. They gave him a sedative, to make sure he didn't wake up until they allowed him to.

--

A police medic felt Toad for a pulse. He shook his head.

--

The X-Jet smoothly set down inside Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters. Rogue was doing okay now, but Logan and Wesley were taken out on stretchers. They headed immediately for the infirmary.

-----

Jean did a quick diagnostic of Logan, and, unsurprisingly, found next to nothing. The self-inflicted stab wounds to the chest were almost gone. Logan's healing factor also saved him from being roasted alive when Magneto used his skeleton as a filament for his machine. Welsey, however, did not have such fortune. Jean and Scott did a x-ray. His right leg was broken in three places and one hand was literally smashed. At least the helmet had been wearing saved him from a fractured skull. But worse than that, he was now in similar shape to the late Senator. His forehead had a layer of sweat, and he face contorted like he was having a nightmare. Jean placed her hands on him and telepathically calmed him.

"So, what are we going to do?" Scott asked. "Magneto activated his x-gene, but he's now burning up. His temperature is at 107 degrees. If he survives, he could easily have brain damage."

"Maybe he'll make it," Jean said hopefully, starting an IV on him. "Kelley was about fifty years old. Wesley's half that, and he's in good shape. Maybe his body can handle it."

Gambit entered the room. "Rogue's fine, but how are the other two?" He stood next to Wesley. The dismay on his face at seeing his friend in such a state was readable. "On second thought, maybe Gambit would be better off not knowing, no?"

"They're still alive," Jean said. "But Wesley's a human. Or was. And Magneto used his machine on him. I'm trying to lower his fever."

Scott looked away. "I shouldn't have let him come," he said, taking the blame, as usual. His eyes, invisible behind his sunglasses, fell on the unconscious Wolverine. He walked over and lifted a bandage on his chest. The skin was unbroken, like it had never been injured.

"Hey Jean," Scott said. "What blood type is he?" He nodded at Wesley.

"I didn't check," Jean said tiredly. "Why?" Scott started moving. He took a sample of Wesley's blood and placed on it a machine. It analyzed the blood and what type it was.

"He's AB positive," Scott said, starting to get excited. "What if we gave him a blood transfusion from Logan? Use Logan's healing factor to save Wesley?"

"We don't know if Logan's healing factor is in his blood," Jean pointed out. "Nor if it would save another person. No one knows much at all about mutants. "

"Isn't it worth a try?" Scott asked.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Really short chapter, I know. Terribly sorry about the delay. I've been somewhat busy. Scratch that. Really busy. If I start falling behind in my writing, drop me a message to let me know another update is due. It helps me get back on track.


	14. End Part 1

Here's the next chapter. I'm going to finish this segment of the story, and seriously edit and rewrite this and the other 13 chapters to make it a lot better, before I start the next portion.

spunkyhufflepuff13, thanks for letting me know where I need to work on my writing. I greatly appreciate it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean had had a tough night, with three seriously wounded patients in her infirmary. Scott had helped the best he could, but he knew little about medical treatment.

But she had managed. Thanks to Logan's blood, Wesley's fever had dropped and he finally stabilized around five in the morning, his wounds mostly healed. In a case that would have made medical history, Logan was still alive. Not only alive, but there was no signs of his other injuries, not even scar tissue. Charles had recovered from the toxin in cerebro, and Jean had moved him back to his own quarters so he could rest easier.

The mansion was still quiet as she moved through the halls. She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty in the morning. Thank God it was a Sunday, and there were no classes she had to teach. The elevator hummed as it took her back down the lower levels. She would check on Logan and Wesley one more time, then get some sleep. Jean opened the door and heard several monitors were beeping loudly.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked incredulously. Logan was sitting upright and detaching wires and tubes connected to him. He tried to yank one sensor off, and finally just popped a claw out and sliced it.

"Getting up," He said. "Where the heck are my clothes?"

"You know how expensive that equipment is?" Jean said asked, tossing him a clean shirt.

"If you can afford a jet, and an underground hanger to put it in, a few cut wires won't bankrupt you," He said, looking around. He glanced at Wesley and seemed to suddenly recall the events of the night before. "Is he okay?"

"Yes," Jean said. "Thanks to you. We gave him a blood transfusion, using your blood, and he recovered well enough. It's rather unnerving to see a broken leg heal in fifteen minutes flat, though."

"How's Rogue?" He asked. Jean smiled. Logan, the tough cage fighter, suddenly seemed worried about someone else.

"Rogue's fine," Jean said reassuringly, leaning slightly closer to Logan. "I think she's a bit taken with you."

"You can tell her," Logan said. "That my heart belongs to another woman." Jean looked uncomfortable.

"It would never work out with us," Jean said quietly.

Logan grinned. "You keep telling yourself that, darlin'," He said, walking back to his room.

---------

After grabbing a quick lunch, Jean checked up on Wesley. Jubilee, Bobby, and John followed her quietly.

"He's not in a coma or anything, right?" Bobby asked, in a hushed tone. John just took another swig of bottled water and looked bored.

Jean wrote down a few observations on a pad. "No. He's just sleeping, and will probably be up within a few hours."

Jubilee glanced around, then leaned over to whisper in John's ear. He nearly laughed, then nodded and handed Bobby his drink.

"Hey, chill it, would you?" John asked. Bobby hesitated briefly. John usually hated cold things. Cold food, cold days, anything cold. "Come on," John said. Bobby shrugged, and turned drink turned icy cold.

John glanced at Jubilee, who giggled and nodded. He poured the cold water on Wesley. It took precisely 2.64 seconds for the water to lower his body temperature enough for him to snap awake, screaming furiously. Jean turned around to see John bolting around the corner to leave, Jubilee doubled over laughing, and Bobby looking mortified.

-------

Logan looked around his room. There was a card on the dresser next to the window. He picked it up. _Glad you recovered, _the card said. It was simply signed _X. _Logan tossed the white card away, and picked up a box someone had left. He unceremoniously dumped the contents out on the bed. It was a X-Men uniform. He picked up a glove and put it on. _Snick!_ His claws neatly went through three small metal ringlets resting between his knuckles. The outfit had been custom made for him.

He picked up a duffel bag and started putting his few possessions back in.

"You know," Xavier said from the doorway. "You can stay. I promise not to bill you." Logan snorted.

"Believe me, Wheels, it won't be soon enough for anyone here. I'm not staying, becoming a teacher, putting up with the boy scout Scooter, teaching bratty kids who-knows what, all that junk. And you couldn't help me find my past, like you promised." He opened a dresser drawer. It was neatly filled with shirts, pants, and socks. He glanced hesitatingly at Charles. "May I?"

"Of course, Logan." Professor Xavier said kindly. "Everything in this room is meant for you." There was no sarcasm in his voice. Logan seemed to appreciate the generosity.

"Thanks," he said, filling the bag further. "I'll pay you back for this stuff."

"You do at least owe your friends a good-bye," Charles said. "They deserve that." Logan shrugged before hefting the duffel bag and walking off.

---------

Charles headed back to lounge area. Logan would have pass through there on his way out. He looked around. Several students were sitting near the tv, where the defeat of the mutant registration bill was being announced. Remy was at a small table with a few boys, playing poker. Rogue was trying on a pair of leather gloves Jubilee had insisted she wear. Wesley was on his laptop, looking up the exact details of what the police knew happened at the Statue of Liberty. Scott and Jean were talking quietly, drinking coffee. Storm was staring out the window, eyes white, making fine weather. There was a hushed buzz of people talking.

_Quiet everyone, _Charles telepathically said. Logan walked into the room, heading for the front door. "Logan has something he wants to say."

Logan stopped and looked at Xavier, eyebrows raised questioningly. But he was distracted.

They were clapping. Most of the people in the room, clapping for him. He had had the chance to run and save himself at Liberty Island, and he instead went back to risk his life to for their teachers. He was a hero. He was one of them.

For a moment, Logan was touched by their sincerity, and he almost choked up. Almost. The bag slid off his shoulder, and he walked back.

"Well?" Charles said gently.

"What's a guy got to do to get a beer around here?" Logan asked.

"Aww," Jubilee said. She took a can of beer out of her jacket's pocket. "only for you, Wolvie."

"Jubilation Lee!" Jean said sternly. Jubilee laughed, and tossed Logan the beer. There was a flash of red from Scott's visor, and the beer can was blasted in half.

"No alcohol on school grounds," Scott said, smiling. Logan had a look of intense fury on his face.

"You little…" He started.

"Care to get a cup?" Jean said, focusing. The small cloud of beer was suspended in midair. Logan got a cup, and picked a few metal fragments out, before the cloud poured itself into his glass. Logan grinned, and raised his glass in a toast.

---------

Grey and white. Everything in the room consisted of those two colors. All of it was plastic. The chess set, Xavier's wheelchair, the chair Magneto was sitting on, the cell walls, the nightsticks the guards were wearing. The red tea in Eric's styrofoam cup was the only thing in the room with real color.

"So," Eric said thoughtfully, moving a bishop. "I gather the human lived." There was a cast on his leg , due to his Logan-inflicted injury.

Charles didn't show any surprise. "I didn't say that." He moved a pawn carefully.

"Yes, but you didn't lecture me on ethics and morality," Eric said, studying the board. "So I gather none of your impromptu team died.."

"A blood transfusion from Wolverine saved him, yes," Charles said. He fell silent. Eric moved, and Charles countered easily.

"Doesn't it ever wake you in the night? The feeling that one day they will pass that silly law, and come for you and your children, and take you all away?" Magneto asked.

"Sometimes," Charles said.

"What do you do, when you wake to that feeling?"

"I feel a great swell of pity for the poor fool that goes to that school, looking for trouble… again." Charles said, staring at Erik.

"You know that a war is coming, Charles, you know it just as well as I do. A large and deadly war that will change everything. I intend to be a part of that change. You're never willing to make sacrifices, and that, my friend, is why I will always win. Sacrifices are a necessary part of war. I will never be stopped for long, no matter how you have me surrounded." The chess board reflected that. Magneto's black king were slowly being hedged in by Xavier's white pieces.

"And I will always be there to stand in your way," Charles said gently, taking a black knight away. "Check."

An overweight guard behind Charles glanced at his watch and coughed, indicating that Charles's visiting time was over. Eric nodded at the guard, and he started to wheel Xavier out of the plastic prison cell. Magneto met the Professor's gaze, and gave a small laugh.

"What are you looking for in there?" Magneto asked, tapped the side of his head.

"Hope." Professor Xavier said, without hesitation. "Hope."

"I will give you hope," Magneto said, "and I ask for one favor in return: stay out of my way." The guard pushed Xavier's plastic wheelchair away, and Magneto was alone, alone in his plastic cell, with his plastic chess set.

He stared at the chessboard, deeply in thought. Something seemed to occur to him, making him smile wickedly. He raised a hand, and, despite its properties, his rook floated across the board and toppled Xavier's king.

"And mate."

**To be continued…**

**-------------------------------------------------------**

I hope you enjoyed this portion of X-Men: Extra Guys. As said before, I do not own the characters or any of the Marvel Universe. I am merely writing this story for fun, and am making no money from it. If any of the copyright holds wish me to stop, merely email me and let me know.

This story will be continued, and I am very sorry for not updating sooner. My thanks to all reviewers, and those people who put this story on the author alert of in their favorites, even if they don't leave reviews.

In the next few chapters, I will develop the characters greater, have some pairings, all that good stuff. I was thinking, for starters, Bobby/Kitty, Remy/Rogue.


	15. A Substitue Teacher and a checkup

Here's chapter 15. Thanks for reviewing the last chapter, **LondonVixen, Ryan268.** I appreciate each and every review.

By the way, I wrote a small one-shot about how I think Spider-Man 3, the film, should have ended. Check it out, read it, leave a review if you like it enough. It will spoil the film somewhat for you if you do not know the plot.

I apologize for not updating sooner. I realize how frustrating it can be to wait.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thinking back, Logan could not believe it. He simply could not believe it. He allowed himself to be persuaded by Jean to teach a "danger room" session. His initial reaction had to Jean's question had been, "Danger room?" Now he found himself in a tight leather 'X' uniform, standing in a huge empty room in the mansion's basement, in front of seven or so teenagers who thought the sub was going to go easy on them. He could barely remember the names, let alone what name went to what kid. Jubilee, Kitty, Peter, John, the rest slipped his mind. And he had 37 minutes to burn before getting back to freedom. He had a date with some beer and a motorcycle that did not belong to him.

"All right, form up!" Logan shouted. The conversations abruptly stopped. Logan consulted a sheet that Jean had given him of things to work on. He was supposed to teach them about safety, self defense, yada yada yada, the boy scout motto, all that. He took out the handgun he had borrowed off Wesley. _They want me to teach this class, I'll teach it- my way!_ Logan thought, smiling at how horrified Scooter would be later that day.

"This session is about firearms. How to use them on others, and how to avoid having them used on yourself." He handed the gun to John, aka Pyro. "You. Point this gun at me, like I'm a hostage. Pull the trigger if I try to take it or anything." The student balked. "It's not loaded, there will just be a click if you pull the trigger." Logan informed him, trying not to lose his patience. Of course, Jean had to wait until Monday to decide to run a battery of medical tests on Wesley, and of course, neither Scott or Storm could take over this class.

"This is how to deal with an armed assailant," Logan informed the class.

The other students, from a safe distance, watched as Logan raised his hands, John pointing the pistol at him, holding it a mere six inches from his chest. Logan suddenly moved, bringing his right hand forward, smacking John's wrist. The pistol flew from his hand, and Logan completed the maneuver by placing a foot behind John's ankle, and shoving him back. In 1.49 seconds, John had been disarmed and knocked down. Logan turned. The rest of the class was applauding.

"Now," He said. "On to the good stuff."

-----------

Jean finished x-raying Wesley. They had run a series of tests, trying to find out what the effects of Magneto's device was. They were yet to find that out, although it seemed the blood transfusion from Logan had completely healed Wesley's injuries, leaving behind only severe fatigue. Xavier rolled into the room.

"How is it going?" Xavier asked. Wesley nodded silently in greeting. He had been exhausted all day, and now wanted nothing more than a long nap.

"Okay," Jean said. "I haven't found the effects yet. X-rays show his skeleton is completely normal, as well as a skin test and eye exam. I did a CAT scan and found a few abnormalities in the midbrain, and cerebrum, but he seems fine."

"Let me try," Charles said. He came closer to the patient.

"What, try reading my mind?" Wesley said. "I already know what happened at Liberty Island."

"No, let me try to see If you unconsciously know your mutation, if any," Charles said. "Try to relax." He slowly placed his hands on the side's of Wesley's head. Wesley did not look relaxed.

Charles suddenly gasped and recoiled, as if wounded.

"Professor!" Jean said. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Well, we know one part," Charles said, breathing heavily. "He seems to have developed a incredibly strong resistance to telepathy. I've seen a few mutations like this."

Wesley looked aghast. "I'm sorry, that was not on purpose."

"I know," The Professor said. "Well, you'll never again have to worry about Jean or myself, or any other telepath for that matter, reading your mind."

Jean's pager beeped. She had a small meeting to make. She glanced at Charles. "Would you mind-"

"Go on," He said. "We'll finish up here."

-------

Scott and Jean discussed briefly with Storm about lessons, school maintenance, and danger room upgrades. They had just finished when Bobby approached Scott and Jean. "Mr. Summers, will we be quizzed on what we learned today?"

"Like what?" Scott asked, eyebrows raised. They weren't supposed to be taught anything important. The point was to see if Logan could teach and get along with kids without gutting them with his claws.

"Like, patterns of fire, sniping, the Mozambique drill, sentry removal- hey, Mr. Summers, where are you going?" Bobby asked. He looked to Jean, who was walking in the opposite direction. She knew exactly what her husband was about to do, and she did not care to get involved.

------------

"What the blazes are you teaching these kids?" Scott snapped. "Danger rooms sessions are supposed to be about teamwork and self defense, not about attacking military bases and killing people!" Logan grinned.

"I thought I'd teach the students something worthwhile for a change, that's all," Logan said, using a mockingly sweet tone, "I'm sure they've earned all your merit badges for this week, Scooter."

----------

"Extraordinary," Professor Xavier said. He had given Wesley a few more tests after Jean left. "I've seen over three thousand mutations, and only one was remotely similar to this."

"Oh, joy," Wesley said. His voice lacked Xavier's enthusiasm.

"You should be happy," Xavier said, giving him a stern look. "Of all the possible mutations, I can't think of one that would help a private military contractor like you more. Your employers will probably want to thank Magneto when they find out."

"What?" Jean said, who had come back to the medical lab. It wasn't a fun place, but Scott and Logan's shouting could not be heard from there.

"It seems our young friend," Charles said, "Can see the future." It took a moment for the full impact to hit Jean.

"See… the future?" Jean said. She was amazed. "How far into the future?"

"It depends," Charles said, "with things up close, that he is interacting with, probably no more than a few seconds, maybe as long as half a minute."

"Do not go spreading this around, please." Wesley said. It looked like exhaustion had soured his mood..

"What?" Jean asked, dumbfounded. "This is incredible! So, can you see more than a few moments forward?"

Wesley scowled ever so slightly. "He says-" he jerked his head towards Xavier "That I could probably develop it to see a few hours into the future, as long as it's events that I won't be altering."

"Why don't you want others to know?" Jean asked. She realized the answer even as the words left her lips. He didn't want people giving him strange looks, whispering about him! She almost started laughing, but managed to stop herself. That would only make matters worse. Now he was going through almost exactly what each of them had experienced.

"This school is meant to be a place where people do not have to be afraid of that," the Professor told the man gently.

If looks could kill, Jean and Charles would have died immediately.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ha! Now our friend Wesley is going through exactly the same predicament so many other mutants went through! But, seriously, put yourself in his shoes. Would you want it spread around the school that you could see the future? It would be very awkward. Came in one day a human, was a mutant the next. If you think he would have had no objections… well, let me know.

Anyway, leave a review, if you're feeling generous. Anonymous reviews are enabled.


	16. Life Around The School

**LondonVixen, **thank you for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciated that review.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He has to go, Chuck," Logan growled, puffing on a cigar, pacing back and forth in the office. He had a few plans of his own in motion, but none would be fast enough for his liking.

Charles Xavier rubbed his the sides of his head. Yesterday it was Scott demanding a certain someone be given the boot for 'warping the children', and now Logan was demanding that Remy LeBeau be kicked off the mansion grounds.

"Pray tell, Logan, why should we evict him from the property?" Charles asked, already full knowing the answer. "He could be a very helpful staff member in the future."

"You know why!" Logan snapped. "He's some criminal! Probably an assassin!"

"Or you simply don't like it that he and Rogue have been spending a great deal of time together," Xavier said calmly. Logan acted as though Marie was his daughter.

"That to! He's a womanizer, and he's going to take advantage of her!" Logan said angrily. He pointed past Charles. "There they go now!" Charles turned to see Gambit and Rogue strolling hand in hand through the garden, talking happily. He returned his attention to Wolverine.

"Logan, with her mutation, I severely doubt he _could_ take advantage of her, let alone would he. I think he has some decency." Professor X said. "But rest assured, if Remy goes staggering around the mansion, half-dead, for any reason, you will be the first to know." In the garden, Rogue and Gambit rounded a corner of plants and vanished.

--------------------

In the garden, Remy and Rogue glanced around. They were alone, on the outer edges of the gardens, away from the school. Remy took a small silk handkerchief from his pocket, put it between his lips and Rogue's, and the two embraced, sharing a passionate kiss.

_Snap! Scritscritscrit Snap!_ The romance was shattered, and the two turned to see Jubilee taking pictures. Neither spoke for a few seconds, too stunned at what was happening to react. Most people would have been humiliated. Jubilee was shameless.

"Oh, carry on, don't let me stop ya!" Jubilee said, grinning. The camera clicked again.

"Jubes!" Rogue shouted, horrified. Gambit seemed momentarily unsure of what to do.

"Petitegive Gambit the film, like a good girl," He said, putting on a charming smile. If she gave those pictures to any number of people, it would not be good.

"Five hundred bucks!" Jubilee said. Gambit's face fell. Jubilee took a few steps back, putting more distance between them. Rogue was about to panic.

"Five hundred dollars for a little camera?" He said weakly, feigning to reach for his wallet.

"Wolvie offered me $250 for these shots!" She said proudly, taking another picture. "Stick around, Remy! You'll make me rich!"

Gambit and Rogue gave each other knowing looks, then looked at Jubilee. It took roughly one and two thirds of a second for her to realize what was about to happen. She shrieked and took of running, vanishing into the maze of trees, hedges, flowers and fountains. Remy and Marie charged after her.

------------------

"Scott, please, just try to get along with Logan," Jean said. "I know you two have some sort of petty fight going, but please, if we're going to get any of those three to stick around, we have to be nice."

"What? We want _all_ three to stay? One's a guy who obviously served as someone's science project, another's a gambling/thief/who-knows-what, and the other is a young, stupid mercenary! What is the Professor thinking?" Scott said, frustrated at the world.

Jean tried to hush him slightly. Logan sometimes would trail her from a distance, and his hearing was incredibly sharp. "Scott," She said quieter, "Charles doubtlessly has something in mind. Trust him. He's the mind reader. They are good guys." She tilted her head, listening. Someone was bolting through the hallways outside the teacher's lounge.

"Wolvie!" Jubilee screamed, running down the hall at top speed.

"Let's just talk, _petite_!" A heavily accented voice said. Gambit, of course.

"Don't you dare give that camera to Logan, or I'll-" another voice said, likely Marie. The noise of boots hitting carpet faded away as they left the area. There was an roar, and a few shouts.

Scott looked at Jean. "Sure," he said, sarcastically. "Good guys."

------------------------------------------------

Small chapter, but doesn't everyone love a little humor?

Leave a review, please. It makes my day brighter. Just think of it this way. Instead of buying this at a bookstore, you spend fifteen seconds typing a sentence that says something like, 'Good chapter!'

By the way, **LondonVixen, **I **really** appreciated your review of the last chapter, the only review it got. So, I'm giving you a small cameo in this story, in the first or second chapter after the soldiers invade the mansion. It's not much, but hey, it's a fun thing to have a cameo in a story you didn't write.


	17. A calm before a storm

Hey, **Lovestoread**, thank you very much for reviewing the last chapter. I made a effort to put a lot of humor into that chapter, and I'm glad you thought it was good.

And thank you, CBGalatea, for reviewing. I'm glad you liked how the fight at Liberty Island was changed. Your complimenting the original character, Wesley also means a lot. Thank you.

Anyway, I'm having this chapter, then we proceed on to the plot of X-Men United.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few shots rang out, followed by a string of swear words. John, Bobby, Peter, and Wesley were in a room playing xbox. Since they were playing versus on Splinter Cell: Double Agent, two TV's had been dragged into the room, another xbox had been borrowed, and the two linked by cable, the TV's now sitting back to back, so the two teams could not see the other screens, and the locations of players.

"How are you doing this?!" Bobby said, sending his spy sliding down a cable and into a rooftop. "You've gotten, like, fifteen kills in the last five minutes!"

"I do stuff like this for a living," Wesley said shortly. Onscreen, his mercenary carefully ducked into a room and checked it for spies.

"Do you get assault rifles?" Peter asked. He was on Wesley's team, both of them playing as mercenaries guarding a base, a large warehouse. A spy crept up behind Peter's mercenary, and grabbed his player, about to snap his neck. Wesley turned, raised the rifle to his shoulder, and fired a single round from halfway across the warehouse, scoring a headshot. The spy, Bobby, slumped to the ground, releasing Peter.

"No, we usually have pistols, or possibly submachine guns." Wesley said. "Although some really professional burglars don't carry guns. The sentence for breaking and entering is much lower if the burglar doesn't have a weapon." A spy threw down a flash grenade from a catwalk, blinding Peter and Wesley.

"Yeah!" Jubilee shouted, running into the room, waving a wad of $125 in tens and fives. "I'm gonna be rich!"

"Really." Bobby said. His spy agilely climbed above a doorway, and he leaped, knocking a heavily armed mercenary unconscious.

"Sure am!" Jubilee said. "And $125 more, in 48 hours, when that film develops." She stared at the two tv's. "Why do you guys always do this? You drag another tv in here, and another xbox!" She said, changing the topic rapidly.

"Like I said last time," Bobby told her. "On this game, it would be ruined if you could see the other person's screen.

"Oh, right," Jubilee said. "Who's winning?"

"We are," Peter said. "Wesley's doing great. He does stuff like this for his job."

"Really?" Jubilee said, her interest suddenly piqued. "Ever shot anyone?"

"On duty or off?" Wesley said, focusing on the game.

"On." Jubilee said. A grenade went exploded onscreen, sending a now dead body flying.

"Oops," Peter said.

"Oops?" Wesley repeated. "You blow up a fellow contractor and say 'Oops'? You let me know before you use another grenade near me, is that clear? I don't want anymore 'Oops' to happen."

"Come'on, ever shot anyone?" Jubilee pressed morbidly. Bobby rolled his eyes and Peter chuckled.

"Yes, a couple times." Wesley said. "Protecting a witness for a Mafia case over in LA, I and a few other contractors got in a brief firefight. The witness was at home with his wife, and a few geniuses the mob had hired to kill him decided to kick the door in and make it look like a robbery. After we killed one and wounded the other two, we managed to cuff them and call the police and an ambulance. My part in the fight was when I shot one in the shoulder with a 9mm handgun, and then disarmed him of his .38 special, and a switchblade." He said this calmly, as if he had told the story quite a few times.

"Did you get shot?" Jubilee asked. She leaned over and watched John and Bobby's tv screen.

"One thug got off a shot with his .45 that hit me in the chest, right before my fellow contractor took him down." Wesley said. "Fortunately, I was wearing kevlar, and was unharmed, other than a bruise. Both the witness and his wife escaped injury. After the trial, they were relocated in the Federal Witness Protection Program, and we haven't heard anything about them since."

"Wow," Jubilee said. "You're like,"-She waved her hands around- "Sooo casual when you say that, not blinking or anything. Like 'Yah, I got shot, shot someone else, how's the weather?' "

"It happened roughly nine months ago," Wesley said. "I've had to recount the story a number of times for various reasons. The shock wears off quickly."

"Every killed anyone?" Jubilee asked.

Wesley looked irritated at that question. "What is this? Twenty questions?" He managed say it in a light tone, but his annoyance showed.

"Whoa, lighten up," Jubilee said, "besides, John is about to grab you." Wesley's merc suddenly spun around rapidly and smacked John's spy with his rifle, knocking him down, before finishing him off with a burst of rifle fire.

"Thanks," Wesley said smiling.

"No problem," Jubilee said, grinning back.

"You're cheating! We automatically win!" John said.

"No, I didn't cheat." Wesley said, laughing at that. "I didn't _ask_ Jubilee to tell me your location, I merely acted on the information she gave me. It wasn't cheating."

"Besides, we were whooping you guys anyway," Peter said, bragging. "You still wouldn't have won, even with that point. We are still playing, but the game is over."

"We might have won," Bobby said. "That one point, coupled with your elimination out of the game for fifteen seconds, might have turned the tide in this match!"

"No, you still would have lost this round," Wesley said calmly, in matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, you can see the future," John said sarcastically. "That's neat. Can you tell me the next winning lotto numbers, too? I'll buy it, and we can split the winnings." Wesley scowled, angry."Don't let a little sarcasm get to you," Peter said. "Two more minutes to go and we win."

-----------------------------------

Scott looked around the room, taking in the damage caused by Logan, Gambit, Jubilee, and Rogue colliding. For reasons still unknown to him, Gambit and Rogue had tried to steal Jubilee's camera, and Logan had helped Jubilee. The result was not pretty. Of course, Logan had blamed it on Gambit, Rogue had blamed it on Logan, Gambit, who barely escaped a broken jaw from the encounter, had refused to discuss it, instead picking up Rogue and carrying her off to who-knows-where. Jubilee had already vanished by the time Scott arrived at the scene.

He could still not figure out why fate had allowed Logan into the school. Perhaps it was God judging him for his sins, by bringing this man into his life to torment him.

Scott finished cleaning up the wreck within an hour, sweeping up the broken glass and removing a shattered piece of furniture. By no means was he going to allow the Professor to make Logan a staff member.

Scott headed out front. Jean was sitting on a bench by her fountain in front of the mansion, waiting for him. They were going to discuss a few classes and students, and maybe head out to see a movie at their favorite theater.

_Vruum! Vruuuummm vrummmm! _Scott turned, knowing all to well the source of that sound. Out of the garage came Logan, riding Scott's bike, a highly customized Harley-Davidson. Scott considered blasting Logan with his optic blasts, but if he hit Logan now, the bike would also be gouged. And, he doubted even his blasts could destroy adamantium. Logan road onto the grass, over to Jean, and patted the back seat of the bike. Scott couldn't hear him, but he was obviously asking Jean if she would like to go with him. Jean evidently refused, because Logan suddenly revved the bike again, and took off, vanishing through the gates of the school, thankfully alone.

_That's __**it**_Scott decided. _He wants a war, I'll give him a war!_

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, that's one chapter. In the next, we move onto the plot from the film X2. Oh, and in case you did not catch it (it was subtly implied,) the reason Wesley was doing so well on the video game was that he could see that attacks before they happened, thanks to Magneto. And also, still no one except the Professor and Jean know about his abilities and they promised to let him reveal it in his own time.

Yes, Jubilee successfully got the film to Logan, and was paid half of the $250. She'll get the other half when the film is developed and Logan sees the pictures. But then, a lot could happen in 48 hours. Just in case someone was wondering, Jubilee will be a main character in the chapters to come.

Also, Logan did not leave for an extended period of time on Scott's bike, he's just going for a ride, probably go to a bar, try to get drunk, have a brawl. You know Logan.

By the way, in this story, Colossus is an American, as he was in the films.

Please leave a review if you liked this chapter. Reviews mean a great deal to authors.

AndrewFisher15


	18. Muesums are not fun

Hello everyone, here's the next chapter. I apologize for not updating sooner, but when the last chapter did not receive a single review, writing this story was put on the bottom of my priorities list. If a chapter is very poor quality, tell me. I'll delete it and write it better.

------------------ -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn broke over the Xavier Institute, and Scott Summers noted from his breakfast table that Logan still had not returned. Not that he was worried in the least about Logan. However, Logan had his bike.

There was a hum of anticipation from most of the students. Today was a field trip, and they were going out to a museum. This also meant much less work for the Jean, Scott, and Storm.

Jubilee grabbed some fruit, an English muffin, a huge bowl of chocolate cereal, and plopped down at a table with an exhausted Wesley, who was slowly sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hey! Today's a field trip, coming with?" She asked energetically, crunching loudly on the cereal. Wesley looked up from his coffee.

"A field trip." He said, looking at her.

"Is there an echo?" Jubilee said. "Yes, a field trip, like I said three seconds ago. Coming with?"

"Where to?" He said, rubbing dark circles under his eyes. He had finally gone to sleep around four in the morning. John, Bobby, and Peter looked in similar shape. Video games.

"Museum. Westchester Museum of Natural History, or something like that. It'll be fun." Jubilee said enthusiastically.

"Museums. Are. Not. Fun." Wesley said critically. "Educational. Interesting, in some cases. Not fun. As a little kid, I was dragged around to museums and the renovated homes of historical dead people no one had ever heard of whenever my grandparents came to visit. I would know if it was fun."

"Aww, poor baby," Jubilee said mockingly. "Tell me all your childhood woes." She grabbed his coffee away, laughing at his failed attempt to block her hand. "Maybe you'll have energy if you eat something nutritious," She said. "Like some ice cream. Or a brownie. Heck, one of those chocolate energy bars."

Wesley managed to snatch the cup back. "Fine. I'll go with, just stop harassing me, okay?"

"Splendid," Jubilee said sweetly. "The bus leaves in twenty minutes out on the front drive."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later at the museum…

Scott surveyed the group, and noted with relief that nothing seem wrong for the moment. Storm was over by a display explaining genetics to a little kid, who was understanding absolutely nothing of what she was saying. Most everyone seemed out of harms way. He looked around for Jean. She was standing next to a pillar, staring into space, looking disturbed. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. She seemed to wake up and suddenly realize he was standing there.

"You okay?" He asked softly. Jean hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"What's wrong?" He prodded. She seemed reluctant to speak.

"I just have a feeling… like something terrible is about to happen." She said, that pained look on her face that Scott had only seen a few times. He hugged her.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he fiercely promised her.

---------------

Jubilee uneasily stood in front of a display that boldly asked the question 'ARE WE DE-EVOLVING?' Underneath it was a picture of a normal man turning to a caveman, and a few paragraphs about mutants being de-evolved people and mankind being monkeys again in a few billion years. She stared at her hands, and watched several sparks jump from finger to finger. Wesley walked up and gave the display a disgusted look.

"Evolution. Unproven, directly opposed proven to the cell principle, impossible according to the scientifically proven Law of Biogenesis and a hopeless way to look at life. What's not to love about it?" He said. "Ever seen a picture of _Eohippus, _from the horse series? It looks like gopher, or maybe a rabbit. I swear, evolutionist scientists are more creative than most of the novel writers alive today."

"Well," Jubilee said. "People believe what they want to believe."

"Or in the case of evolutionists, they forcible brainwash school kids into believing what they want them to believe," Wesley said. Jubilee shrugged. He had a point.

"You don't believe in evolution?" She asked, although the answer was obvious.

"Only a false religion need Hollywood, the media, and courts of inquisition to keep it official," Wesley said. "I'm a Christian. I believe in God."

"Isn't religion just a crutch for people who can't handle life?" Jubilee asked playfully, turning away from the display.

"Forty-five million people have been killed in the 20th century alone because they were Christians," Wesley said. "There is a man in North Korea awaiting execution for his Christian faith right now. It must be a crutch they valued greatly."

"Whatever," Jubilee said. She nodded towards the foot court. "I saw Bobby, John, and Marie over there. Let's see if they have anything interesting to do."

"May as well," Wesley said, "the boringness of this place is painful."

Jubilee deliberately stepped on his foot when he turned his head to look around. "Stop complaining." They walked up on the tail end of a debate between John and Bobby.

"That's dumb," John said to Bobby. "A bullet won't make your head explode. No way."

"I read on the internet it will," Bobby countered. Jubilee caught Marie's attention, looked at John and Bobby, then rolled her eyes. Rogue sighed and nodded.

"A small to medium size pistol round won't," Wesley said abruptly, "But a large rifle round, like a 7.62x39, will literally blow your head in half if it is placed well."

"Yea right." John said sarcastically.

"I had to help clean up a sniper's kill once, when I was in the Middle East briefly," Wesley said. "Suicide bomber tried to blow himself up at our dock. A sniper stopped him with one shot. Sniper lost a bullet worth two dollars. Suicide bomber lost his upper skull."

"Uh," Rogue said, shuddering. "How gruesome."

"The sight wasn't the problem." Wesley said, rubbing his eyes. "You should have smelled it."

"Why didn't you get Remy to come with us?" Jubilee asked Marie. "He could think of something to do. Or hot-wire the van and drive us to the mall."

"I tried to," Rogue said. "He said he wanted to experiment with the danger room."

"He's probably make a simulation of robbing a bank, or something like that." Wesley said, rubbing his eyes.

"Haha." Marie said dryly. "You're so funny, I might die laughing." She glanced up from the pamphlet she was reading as two scruffy looking teenagers walked over.

"Hey man, can I have a light?" One said to John, holding a cigarette. John didn't respond for a few seconds, just flicking his lighter on and off a few times.

"Aren't you a tad young to be smoking?" Wesley asked the smoker. "What's your birthday?"

"None of your business." He sneered. The other turned and glanced down at Rogue, who was sitting. Rogue's outfit had a few revealing places on it, as the jerk noticed. Rogue looked up uneasily. The jerk smirked and raised his eyebrows. Rogue gave a pleading look to Bobby and John, and if asking for help.

The smoker took advantage of John's momentary distraction to snatch the lighter, and light his cigarette. John leaped to his feet and managed to get his lighter back, knocking smoker back in the process. Jerk stood between John and Smoker.

"You're a loser, you know that?" Jerk said. "Back off."

Wesley leaned over and whispered in Jubilee's ear as the argument progressed. "Five, four, three, two, one-" John raised a hand near enough Smoker's lit cigarette, and suddenly it exploded in a fireball, setting his shirt and Jerk's back on fire. Smoker fell down and Jerk started rolling around on the ground, trying to put his shirt out.

Ice flew from Bobby's hands and put out the fires. Everyone else froze, watching.

"It's okay everyone. A little accident with a cigarette," Bobby said, speaking calmly, holding his hands up. "Nothing to see."

They still didn't move. The museum was eerily quiet, except for a the music playing overhead.

"Are you doing this, Bobby?" Rogue asked, staring at the living statues.

"No," the professor said, wheeling over, weaving in between frozen patrons. Jean and Scott were right behind him. "I did." He gave John a stern look. "Next time you feel like showing off, don't."

"They were asking for it." Wesley said, before John could respond.

"Of all people, I would have thought that you would know violence is not the correct way to respond to an insult," Charles Xavier said. "We're leaving. Now."

------------------------------------------------------------

The x-van was quite, absorbing the announcement the Professor had just made. "A mutant… tried to kill the President?" Rogue said slowly. "Why?"

"We don't know," Xavier said. "However, the important thing is that he did not succeed."

"He got within two feet of the President and still couldn't kill him?" John remarked. "Pretty pathetic, wouldn't you say?"

--------------------------

Logan strolled back into the mansion a few minutes before two, strolling around idly. He was half surprised the mansion's security system had not sounded an alarm when he arrived.

"Hey, Logan!" Jean said from the balcony above him. "Just who was needed." She came down from the second floor to speak to him.

"Needed for what?" Logan said, taking a few steps closer, smiling.

"To baby-sit," Jean said. Logan's smile faded. "I'm sure you heard of what happened earlier today." Logan nodded. He had indeed heard. "Anyway," Jean continued, "Storm and I are going to go get the would-be assassin as soon as Charles can track him down on Cerebro."

"Why can't Gumbo baby-sit?" Logan growled. "Or Wesley? Or Peter? Heck, why not Scooter?"

"Scott's going with Charles to visit Magneto in a little bit, see if he had anything to do with the assassination attempt," Jean said. "Remy and Wesley and Peter will be around and they can help out if you need it. But none of them are really the type to supervise. You are. They can help out if you need them to." Jean said.

Scott came out of a hallway. "Logan." Scott said, ruining the moment. "You're back." Jean walked over, gave the boy scout a kiss on the cheek, and was gone. Scott gave him a smug look. Logan swore that the guy had inferiority issues.

"Happy to see me?" Logan said.

"Where's my bike?" Scott demanded. Logan tossed him the keys. Relief was visible on Scott's face.

"Tank's riding on E," Logan said, smirking. Scott threw the keys back, his relief turning to anger.

"So fill it up." He snapped, and walked away. Logan chuckled as he pocketed the keys.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So that was that chapter. If some of you were offended by Christianity being portrayed as true and evolution as false, that's unfortunate. I wouldn't have put it in except for the fact that the X-Men movie's preached evolution heavily.

Please be a kind and thoughtful reader by leaving a review, if you read the chapter and liked it. Or if you have any suggestions.


	19. School Shooting

Hey, thanks everyone, for reviewing. It really means a lot when you fellows review.

Here's when the story picks up again, and the action returns. One thing: I'm assuming that you all have seen the film X-Men 2: X-Men United, so, some scenes have been left out and we are going straight to the interesting parts. I'm assuming that's okay with you readers. If not, let me know you dislike that approach and I'll consider changing it. That will change when I go onto my own plot for X3, not the movie's plot at all.

Marie, Lee, London Vixen, and DarkGoddess1992. Thank you for leaving reviews. It made my day. 

Warning: this chapter is rated PG-13 for violence. I'm sure you can guess why.

I'm very excited. I've been planning this chapter and the next few since Liberty Island. It'll be really good, I hope. I hope you guys enjoy reading this chapter as much as I'm enjoying writing this. Now, on with the story!   
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Logan opened the refrigerator door and started knocking various food items aside, muttering to himself. "Where's that baloney? I can smell it, where is it?" The impossible had happened. He was stuck babysitting an entire school. Jean and Storm were in Boston, and Scooter and the Professor were visiting Magneto. _Least most of the twerps are asleep,_ he tried to comfort himself. Course they were asleep. It was three in the morning. He sniffed air again. There was a slight noise behind him, a gentle footstep. _Snik! _ Logan spun around, one hand extended, claws out.

"Hey!" Bobby protested, jumping back, hands up. "It's just me!" _Sniiik. _The two of the claws retracted back into his hand, and the slits healed perfectly.

"Can't sleep?" Logan asked, finally finding the baloney. He took the plastic wrap off and started slicing it with one claw. He couldn't find any beer, so he had made himself a sandwich.

"Sorta." Bobby said, getting a pint of ice cream out of the freezer. "Professor Summers said you stole his Harley."

"Professor Summers is a twit." Logan said calmly, taking a bite out of his sandwich. Bobby considered protesting this, then decided against it. Suddenly a voice came floating down the hallways.

"Now, the day has come! We are forsaken! There's no time, anymore!" A woman's voice, someone singing. Logan nearly choked on his sandwich, startled by the blasting music. It sounded like someone had turned their computer's speakers up to maximum and then turned on rock music.

"What is that?!" He knew exactly what it was, and he was going to have a dozen little kids awake on him.

"Someone turned on their music too loud." Bobby said. He tossed the ice cream back in the freezer and started running towards the source. Logan was ahead of him by a few feet. They rounded the corner… and came to a halt. Someone was standing there. He was dressed in black, had face paint on… and scary gun in his hand. The commando froze for a moment. So did Logan and Bobby. The spell broke. The commando whipped a pistol up, about to fire. Logan brought a fist up and swung backhanded at the man. The man bent backwards to avoid it, and Logan's fist came short. _Snik! Rip! Snik! _

The man stood perfectly still for a moment. Logan grabbed Bobby and started dragging him down a hallway.

"What? What did you do?" Bobby asked. He twisted, trying to look behind him. They had turned the corner, so the burglar was out of sight, but there was the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

----------------------------------------

Jubilee slowly stirred awake to the sound of heavy drums combined with singing. "We lived our lives in our paradise! Like gods we shaped the world around! No border lines were stayed behind, though balance is something fragile!" The cd was incredibly loud in the stillness of night. She had heard that band before. The song was _Forsaken, _by Within Temptation. She glanced over at Kitty. She was still asleep. Marie's bed was still empty. Remy had taken her on a date, dinner and a movie, and the two were still out. Jubilee stumbled out of bed. Whoever had decided to blast everyone out with music was going to get it. More precisely, they were going to get their electronic stuff fried.

She slowly walked down the hallway, rubbing her eyes. Someone moved, and Jubilee found herself yanked forward and around a corner. The person grabbed her hands just as she was about to paft them. A hand covered her mouth, muffling her shout.

"Be quiet or you will get us killed!" The person whispered fiercely in her ear. He was dressed in black, and had a pistol in his hand.

"Wesley? What's going on?" Jubilee asked tiredly. Wesley angrily gestured for silence. A second passed. Wesley lunged around the corner, and threw another man to the ground, knocking the man's sub-machine away and pinning his hands behind his back. Jubilee let out a shriek and jumped back.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Wesley growled at the man, who Jubilee noted was dressed like a swat guy or something. The man thrashed, knocking Wesley onto his back. He drew a pistol. Wesley kicked the hand, and the pistol clattered against a wall. The man took out a knife and moved in for the killing blow. Wesley grabbed the knife hand, desperately struggling,. Wesley's vest was bulletproof, but a good knife could easily cut through it. The music played on, the recorded singer oblivious to the battle.

"Though we have all tried, to turn back the tide, it was, all in vain! Our time has run out, are future has died, there's no more escape!"

_Paft paftpaft! _The dark hallway exploded with fireworks, blinding the both men. Welsey grabbed his face, blinded by the lights. But the intruder had been wearing night vision, which made the light dangerously bright. Wesley recovered first. **Blam!Blam! Blam! **The intruder fell to the ground. The two 9mm bullets that hit his chest had easily been stopped by body armor, but the third hollow-point round hit him in the face. Jubilee recoiled in horror. Blood splattered on the wall. Wesley didn't hesitate. He quickly holstered his pistol, and started taking the man's gear. This man was no normal intruder, that was for sure. The gear he was wearing would cost roughly $750, and the weapons were worth several thousand dollars. But he had no time to ponder who the man was. Training dictated that he should remain in one place no longer than sixty seconds maxium in this sort of situation. Wesley grabbed the man's radio, along with the p90 submachine gun and several spare magazines.

"Why the blazes didn't I take the advanced weapons training course?" Wesley asked, hefting the p90. He pocketed several flash grenades and took the tranquilizer pistol. He stood up and glanced at Jubilee. It dawned on him that she had probably never seen someone kill another person. Frequently an untrained person would go into nervous shock or start vomiting the first time they witnessed a kill. Wesley could not afford the delay. He picked Jubilee up and looked her in the face.

"You have to keep going. Come'on!" He said. Wasting time like this was a very bad idea.

"You… killed him?" Jubilee asked incredulously, craning her neck to stare at the dead body.

"He left me no choice," Wesley said. "It was him or me."

"Yeah," Jubilee said. "I saw." She turned away from staring at the corpse and started heading down the hallway, much to Wesley's relief.

Wesley made sure the p90 had a round chambered and the safety was off, made sure Jubilee was following, and they bolted down the hallway towards the garage.

-----------------------------------------------------

Kitty's door flew open. A bright like shone in her face. Kitty opened her eyes. The intruder shot. She phased through the bed, and into the room below her. Another light landed on her. Two more intruders. Kitty turned and ran through the wall. Three more intruders in the corridor. She passed through one, another wall, and was gone.

---------------------------------------------------

Half a mile away from the school….

"Is that a helicopter?" Marie asked. She rolled down the window, wincing at the cold night air that hit her. Remy pulled the car over.

"Yes." Remy said. "A big helicopter." He stepped out of the car and peered into the late night sky. His glowing red eyes saw things hers' missed. He muttered a few words to himself.

"_Chere,_ the Professor isn't expecting a visit by the army, is he?" Remy asked. He dove back into the car- and re-emerged with a pair of binoculars.

"No. Why?" Rogue asked, shaking of the fatigue from the long night.

"Because," Gambit said. "That's exactly what he's getting. Those choppers are from the army." The thumping of chopper blades was quite noticeable now.

Gambit started moving quickly. "Rogue, get in the car. Gambit needs to go look into this."

"Why don't we call the police?" Rogue asked. By the time the question left her mouth it was obvious why.

"Because, _chere,_ the police won't help us here." Remy said. He handed her the car keys. "I have go help. Take the car. Under the back seat is a case with $2500 in it. Use as much of it as you need to. Don't use any credit cards, or speed, or anything like dat. Avoid the police. Don't call the school. Don't come back to this place unless you find out that it is back in business." He handed her his cell phone. "I will call you as soon as I can and we'll meet up." Rogue took the phone.

"What if it's nothing?" Rogue asked hopefully.

"Then Remy'll call you. Go." Remy ordered. He ran forward into the night, and vanished.

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan carried a tranquilized child as he ran down the hall. A small group of kids were clustered around the entrance to the tunnels, desperately trying to find the panel that would open. Peter cleared the wall, and smacked it with one arm. A panel slid open, and the kids fled into the escape route. Logan handed the unconscious child to Peter, and turned around to go back.

"I can help you!" Peter said. Logan didn't look back as he rounded the corner.

"Help them."

He crouched at another corner, claws out. He could hear their very breaths, smell what they ate for dinner seven hours ago. All his senses were sharper than usual. He tensed, muscles tight. A foot hit the ground, roughly seven inches away from his hiding place. He sprang. They fell.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we going?" Jubilee asked. She and Wesley were bolting down the corridor.

"The garage. I have a friend in New York City that will help us, but we'll never make it on foot," Wesley said. Jubilee started to say something. He gestured for silence, then held the radio up to his ear.

"Bad karma 4, 5, 6, all fireflies are here. Have you secured the package?" The radio said.

"Negative. Encountering light resistance," a soldier said. "Bad karma out."

"They brought in choppers," Wesley said to Jubes. "What's the fastest way to the-" He shoved her behind a wood beam and opened fire as two intruders came through a window.

"Eyes!" Jubilee shouted, raising her hands. **Paftpaftpaft! **Blinding fireworks lit the area. Wesley took his hands off his face and shot. The p90's bullets sliced easily through the commandos' heavy body armor. They fell.

"They probably have a perimeter around the entire school by now!" Wesley said angrily. He regained his feet. "Whoever they are." He helped himself to the dead soldier's magazines and equipment. Jubilee turned away, grossed out at his nonchalance about looting a corpse.

"There's a tunnel system under the school!" Jubilee said. "We can get out that way!" They resumed running, this time Jubilee leading.

"A tunnel system?" Wesley repeated. "When exactly was I going to learn about this?"

------------------------------------------------------------

Kitty and Bobby finished their search and reported back to Logan. "There are dozens of them! They got some big helicopters in the front law, and I think they captured a few kids!" Kitty said breathlessly.

Logan looked grim at hearing that. "Popsicle, did you seal of the main hallways like I told you?"

"Yea," Bobby said. "There are still a lot of routes to get to were we are, but the main hallways are iced shut."

Suddenly Logan's head twisted towards the far end of the hallway, and he tensed.

"Get going. I'll hold them long enough for Peter and the students to get away." Logan ordered. Kitty nodded and phased through the wall, taking Bobby with her. Logan took a few steps down the hall. Five soldiers appeared and went for cover. _Snik! _He took his claws out.

"If you want to shoot me then shoot me!" Logan snarled.

"DON'T SHOOT HIM!" Someone shouted. The voice quieted. "At least, not yet." An older man, evidently the commanding officer, stepped out of the small crowd.

"Wolverine?" The man asked. "Well, this is certainly the last place I expected to see you." Logan stared, not speaking. He knew that voice. He remembered it. If he only knew where it was from!

"You don't remember, do you?" The man said, almost tauntingly. "It's been, what, fifteen years? I've gotten old. But you, you look liked you've barely aged fifteen minutes."

"Who am I?" Logan asked suddenly, a hint of pleading in his voice. A pleading for the blank pages of his life to be filled.

"You want to know?" The man asked, smirking. "Come back with us, and I'll tell you everything."

_Clank_! The sound of metal hitting wood interrupted them both. Several small metal objects rolled out of an open door adjacent to the hallway.

Someone realized what it was. "Grenades!"

-------------------------------------------

Sorry to leave you folks on a cliffhanger, but I thought this chapter was getting a little long (this is page four on my laptop's Microsoft Word program.).

If you liked this chapter, please leave a review. If you leave a review, it is a sign that you are a kind and wonderful person.


	20. Of Reunions and old Friends

Hey readers. I'm finally back with another chapter.To my credit, part of the reason it's been so long is that I was sick for a week. I thought I had mono for a few days. (When you have mono, your spleen swells up, and a sharp blow can make it rupture. That's lots of fun.) I did not have mono though, and am now back to full health.

**iloveromys, **you're comment on how you like my character, Wesley, is greatly appreciated. I mean, **really**, **really,** appreciated. And how you like the story. Not to mention you, out of 131 times that last chapter was read, were the only person to leave a review! I put a lot of effort into that chapter, and you were kind enough to review it. Thank you.

(Note: I do not expect people who do not read the chapter to leave a review.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last time, on X-Men: Extra Guys….

"Wolverine?" The man asked. "Well, this is certainly the last place I expected to see you." Logan stared, not speaking. He knew that voice. He remembered it. If he only knew where it was from!

"You don't remember, do you?" The man said, almost tauntingly. "It's been, what, fifteen years? I've gotten old. But you, you look liked you've barely aged fifteen minutes."

"Who am I?" Logan asked suddenly, a hint of pleading in his voice. A pleading for the blank pages of his life to be filled.

"You want to know?" The man asked, smirking. "Come back with us. I'll tell you everything."

_Clank_! _Clank chink._ The sound of metal hitting wood interrupted them both. Several small metal objects rolled out of an open door adjacent to the hallway.

Someone realized what it was. "Grenades!"

----------------------

The soldiers fell back. Logan turned and dove to the floor. Fragmentation grenades sent shrapnel out from the ground at a slight angle; if you could get roughly ten feet away from them, and get flat on the floor, you could possibly not be hit.

The grenades exploded. Instead of a 'Ka-boom' and intense heat, though, the hallway was briefly lit by a flash of light, and the high pitch noise nearly deafened Logan. Wesley and Jubilee ran out of the door the grenades had been thrown out. Logan realized that they were not fragmentation grenades at all, but merely non-lethal flash grenades. He stood, rubbing his left ear, trying to lower the ringing he was hearing.

"Get it open!" Wesley hissed. Jubilee dashed over the wall, and tried whacking the panel to make it open.

A soldier peeked around the corner.

**BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!** Wesley quickly fired a burst from his captured p90 submachine gun. The rounds missed, tearing chunks of wood out of the walls, but the soldier ducked back.

Jubilee slugged the panel twice, to no success, then reared back and kicked it. It slid open. She stooped over and vanished inside.

"What's the plan?" Logan growled. _Snik! _Out came his claws. He did some quick battlefield estimations on where the soldiers were, and how long the trio had before they were attacked from another direction. It didn't look promising.

"We stay alive!" Wesley said, backing up to the escape tunnels entrance, carefully firing on semi automatic at the corner the enemy was taking cover.

"I meant a good plan." Logan snapped.

"Yeah. We get away!" He took out another grenade and pitched it down the hallway. Smoke starting filling up the hallway, making it impossible to see anything without the use of thermal vision. Neither side had that. "Get in there!" Wesley said. Logan entered the tunnel. Wesley fired another half a dozen rounds, and followed him, grabbing the edge of the panel and pulling it back into place before climbing down the ladder.

-----------------------

The soldiers waited roughly three seconds after the gunfire stopped, and then bravely advanced through the smoke, despite not being able to see more than two feet in front of themselves. It took them almost a minute to verify that they were now alone. Wolverine and the shooter were gone.

"Never mind him." Stryker ordered. Wolverine would have just been an added bonus. He was not the main objective. Not even the secondary objective, which was to capture at least several of the facility's trainees. "Get cerebro."

--------------------

The trio ran through the dark tunnels underneath the school, Logan leading them. The walls and floors were a sort of tile, reminding one of a locker room. "What else does this school have?" Wesley asked as they ran down the passageway. "A self-destruct sequence, I suppose?" Logan held up a hand for silence. They ran another dozen yards, then Logan made a sharp right. There was a small cutout part in the wall about five feet deep by five feet wide and a ladder square in the middle against the back wall.

"Where does this lead to?" Wesley questioned. He craned his head back to see the faint light at the top. After roughly ten feet of climbing, the walls around the ladder closed in to form a tight shaft perhaps three feet in diameter.

"Garage." Logan said, be careful to whisper. "Think they have men up there?" Normally he could have smelled if anyone was up there, but his nostrils were still filled with the acidic reek of gunpowder. Wesley hesitated a moment, staring up.

"It's probably clear. I'll go first." He said quietly.

"If someone's up there and you pop your head out of a hole, you'll get shot up," Jubilee whispered. "Maybe we could forget the cars and hike through the woods." Logan raised an eyebrow at that. He had personally observed this girl fake having the flue and to complete the image, swallow syrup of ipecac, to get out of gym once. He could not imagine her going through five miles of woods on foot. Certainly not in a nightgown, barefoot.

"No way. I'm not hiking to civilization." Wesley said. "I'll be careful, but I'm getting my van."

He slung the sub-machine gun over his back, and climbed swiftly up the ladder. At the top was a grid, which would cleverly disguise the garages' tunnel entrance as part of a drainage system.

Wesley used his legs to brace himself against the opposite side of the shaft, with his right hand drawing his handgun, with the left hand pushing the grid back. It was surprisingly light, and opened with little effort. Wesley quickly climbed out of the shaft, pistol ready. The garage appeared to be untouched. He took a few steps, looking around rapidly. He leaned back over the hatch and gave the all clear, then to his van. Fortunately, he had brought his keys with him. He jumped in the driver's seat, started the van up, and pulled out of the parking space he had been in. Logan and Jubilee joined him.

The van looked like a standard four-door vehicle, with a small weapons rack installed onto the back of the front two seats.

"If we just drive out, won't they simply shoot us through the car?" Jubilee questioned nervously.

"Bulletproof glass windows," Wesley said proudly. "The doors are armored, and can easily withstand getting shot by an AK-47 without placing passengers or the driver at risk. The entire outer skin of the vehicle is also toughened to keep someone from shooting out the engine. It may not look like much, but a lot of special modifications were made to this vehicle."

"Enough chit chat. Shut up or let me drive!" Logan growled. Wesley revved the engine. The garage doors opened automatically to let them pass, and shut behind them.

--------------

Back at the mansion, the soldiers finished taking several essential parts from cerebro. They were loaded onto the transport helicopters, along with half a dozen captured mutants, and the bodies of the eight killed soldiers. They moved quickly. There was only a few hours left to sunrise, and the last thing they needed was someone to drive by or show up at the training facility with a platoon of troops on the front lawn. The soldiers boarded the helicopters, sealed the doors, and took off, leaving minimal evidence they were ever there. Colonel Stryker relaxed aboard the lead chopper, the lights dim. The number of troops lost was surprisingly higher than he expected but still acceptable losses. He closed his eyes, resting and mentally going over the next part of the operation. The soldier sitting across from him looked up from cleaning his sub-machine gun, carefully surveying the situation. He seemed slightly awkward in his gear, as if it didn't fit quite right. He lifted up the goggles, revealing a set of glowing red eyes.

-------------------------

Wesley drove down the road in front of the school, the adrenaline rush starting to wear off, his heartbeat starting to return to normal. He could not believe what had just happened. Military forces had just invaded a school. And, to make it even more incredible, he had survived.

Logan reached over, kicked Wesley in the shin, and slammed his foot on the brake. The van screeched to a halt.

"What'd you do that for?" Wesley snapped , one hand gripping the pistol underneath his seat, the other desperately rubbing his shin, hoping it wasn't broken. Logan's foot felt like a block of steel.

"Would you shut up and look?" Logan growled. A mere dozen feet away, illuminated by the headlights, was a darkened car. Rogue was crouched next to it. Logan nearly kicked the door off as he exited the van.

"Kid! You okay?" Logan asked. Jubilee noted that his voice suddenly sounded… almost caring. Rogue stood up shakily. She looked exhausted.

"Logan?" She said. "What happened at the school? We saw big helicopters landing on the front lawn. Remy went to check it out, and never came back."

Logan put a hand on her shoulder and guided her toward the van. "Get in the car, kid. We'll explain on the way." He opened the door for her, then shut it before getting back in his seat. He looked at Wesley.

"You going to get us going?" Logan growled.

"You going to try to make us crash again?" Wesley retorted angrily. Logan rolled his eyes.

"Marie, soldiers broke into the school. Peter took most of the kids and got out through the tunnels. We barely made it out." Logan said. Wesley started driving again.

"Who was that guy?" He broke in. "You seemed to know him." Logan tensed, trying to remember.

"Stryker." Logan said, grabbing the memory before it could fade away. "Colonel Stryker."

"He's military? United States military?" Wesley demanded, his hands tightening on the wheel.

"I think so." Logan said, frustrated. "I don't really know, okay? Yes, I think he's in the government."

"Where are we going?" Jubilee said. "We can't just drive around forever. Do you live around here?" She was asking both men.

"If the goal was to capture everyone one at the school, going to our homes would be suicidal." Wesley said. "They have all the school records. My name wasn't on them, but I left my laptop and that has more than enough info on it to tract me down. I have a friend on the outskirts of Manhattan who will help us."

"How do you know this 'friend' won't turn us in if he knows that soldiers invaded the school?" Rogue asked warily.

"Trust me on this." Wesley said. "He wouldn't."

"So, you turned on that loud music?" Jubilee asked Wesley. He nodded. "Why?"

"It was loud enough that I could sneak through the halls without being heard, and it would wake people up." Wesley said. He looked at the gas gauge. It was low. He had been looking out for a gas station when he stopped on that road to investigate a crash scene, which had gotten him into that whole mess.

The dashboard lit up a warning that gas was low. Logan noticed. "There's a petrol station over there." He rapped a knuckle on the window.

" 'Petrol station'? " Jubilee asked, making air quotation marks. "What are you, British?"

"Canadian." Logan growled.

"Drop it." Rogue ordered. "Both of ya." Wesley pulled the van up to a pump and took two twenty dollar bills out from under his seat.

"Logan, go tell them thirty dollars on pump six." Wesley said. Walking into a gas station wearing the combat gear he had on was not the brightest thing he could do at the moment. Logan scowled at being told what to do, and grudgingly left the car. Rogue started exploring the back of the van, looking for a snack, or anything of interest.

Logan swung the glass door open and walked up to the counter and handed the clerk the money.

"Thirty on six." Logan growled. The clerk, a teenage girl, looked frightened. A small nametag on her shirt read **Melissa**. She took the money and punched a few buttons on the computer, then handed him the ten dollars of change. The shirt she was wearing had a red fox emblem on it, he noticed. Logan walked towards the back of the store, looking for a beer and maybe a cigar.

"Uh, sir…" Melissa said loudly, trying to get his attention. "You have, um, a-" Logan turned. The girl pointed at his chest. He looked down. There were four small ragged holes in his T-shirt, one directly above his heart, one above his liver, and two over his left lung, each surrounded by a small bloodstain perhaps an inch or two in diameter. He must have been shot a few times and not have noticed. The tranquilizer darts he had been hit with while covering Peter's retreat with the students must have slowed his healing factor enough that he bled when shot. He put his finger through one hole, and felt relieved that the flesh was unmarred. His healing factor was back to normal.

"I'm fine." Logan said. He swung the fridge door open and grabbed a beer and a few other things. As he walked back to the counter, he glanced out the window. Wesley was done getting gas and was sitting in the car.

He handed the items to the girl, then handed her the ten bucks of change. Melissa glanced at his shirt again.

"You sure you're all right?" She asked. Logan thought he heard an Australian accent._Hey, might as well give some explanation, _He thought. She handed him a quarter of change and a receipt.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan said. "A couple nine year olds tried to hold me up at gun point."

"What happened?" Melissa said, immediately alarmed.

"I took the gun away and neutered all six of 'em with my pocketknife." Logan said, using a perfectly normal tone. He picked up the bag and strode off. Melissa was at a loss for words.

"Have good day." Logan said, walking out the door.

--------------

Jubilee reached forward and started to open the glove compartment. Wesley put a hand on it, stopping her.

"Don't open that right now. Someone might have left souvenirs in there," Wesley said, sounding both tired and frustrated with the current situation. Jubilee's gaze slowly traveled from the compartment, to Wesley. She looked horrified.

"Oh my God!" Jubilee said loudly. "I better not find any panties in there!" Wesley look confused for a moment, then scowled as realization of what she meant dawned on him. Rogue, who had looked like she had fallen asleep in the back, was suddenly awake and alert.

"I meant grenades, actually." Wesley said tersely. "Or tracking devices. The vehicle was unattended when those soldiers raided us. On second thought, I better check the compartment." He put his hand on the latch, but hesitated a moment before opening it. Just a road map and an unused emergency flare fell out.

"Oh," Jubilee said. "Had me worried there, for a second." Logan walked back the to the van, and swung the passenger door open.

"My seat. Move." He growled. Jubilee opened her mouth to protest, but abruptly changed her mind. She moved to the back. Logan tossed a heavy bag in between the two front seats, not caring that he had just dropped it on Wesley's captured sub-machine gun. Wesley leaned over and looked in. A six-pack of beer, several cigars, and a packet of matches.

"Ah, shopped with all of us in mind, eh?" Wesley asked sarcastically, mimicking a Canadian accent. Logan only turned his head slightly, giving Wesley what Jubilee fondly called the "Say that again and I will castrate you", look. Wesley quickly turned the van back on, and they were on the road again.

---------------

The sun was just rising as the van parked in front of what appeared to be a run down apartment complex. Wesley stared at the building for a moment, unsure if he was being wise.

"Is this it?" Logan asked. "Or are you admiring the view?"

"This is it." Wesley said hesitantly. "Mind your manners," He said, nervously trying to sound humorous. "My friend is not someone you want to annoy in the least. And, let's keep the noise down, shall we?" He opened his door and exited the car. Rogue looked askance at the idea of going into the building, which gave the impression of being a drug house. Wesley quietly walked to the entrance and reached for the handle on the door. **Wham! **Three of the four people turned around to see Jubilee standing next to the car door she had just slammed shut, looking sheepish. Wesley let out a quiet groan, then entered the building. The others followed.

_The place isn't any better inside than it is out,_ Logan observed. Not that he minded. He had spent most of that last fifteen years in places dumpier than this. He sniffed a few times. Four people lived in the building. Three men, one woman. He sniffed again. There was a strong odor of alcohol, mixed with gun oil, coming from the room at the end of the hall. There was another faint odor, but it was heavily masked by strong cleaning fluids. Jubilee suddenly stopped, staring at the floor. Rogue noticed it as well. A dark, red stain on the wooden boards that served as the floor. Bloodstains?

Wesley strode past the first two doors, raised his hand, and gently tapped on the third door. Door number two down the hallway squeaked open, and a large, round man peeked out at the small crowd.

"Mr. Castle? If I could speak with you, sir?" Wesley said politely to the door. Logan waited a moment, and turned to the fat man, who shrank back when it became obvious he had been noticed.

"Is… Mr. Castle in there?" Logan asked. The fat man nodded, looking frightened.

A low voice came from behind the closed door. "Who is it?"

Wesley straightened, almost standing at military attention. "It's Wesley, sir, and three friends. I need to speak with you. It's very important." There was nothing for a moment, then the sound of multiple locks being opened. The door swung open, showing a dark haired man, around mid-thirties, wearing a black shirt and blue jeans. He had a .45 caliber 1911 pistol in his left hand.

Logan stiffened. Jubilee took a quick breath. Rogue stepped back. They all recognized Wesley's 'friend', Mr. Castle, from news shows.

**Frank** Castle.

The Punisher.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, I hope that was a neat chapter. I also hope it isn't cheesy that Wesley is friends with both Gambit and the Punisher.

I also desperately hope the 'souvenir' joke was not too crass for this story, and for the (I like to think) high moral standards of my writing. If you think it was, **please** do not hesitate to let me know in your review

I also ask that readers leave a review, which is a sign to an author that readers are enjoying the story. (Although, I do smile broadly when I see an alert that someone has added me to favorites or put me on author alert or story alert.) Reviewers, I am not annoyed in the least when someone reads an entire story and only leaves one review. Nor do I expect that someone, once they leave a review, must then review every chapter and story I write. (I used to be occasionally hesitant to leave a review for those reasons.)

And, lastly, but not least, **London Vixen, **you had your cameo in this chapter. I hope you liked it. Thanks for all the reviews on my stories that you have left, despite the fact I haven't yet returned the favor. And yes, I looked on your profile and saw that your name was Melissa. (Face it, having a character in this story named London Vixen would be a little odd.)

Oh, and Logan joking about getting robbed by nine years olds came from someone on a forum I visit. A guy posted about how his wife was robbed at gunpoint by several nine and ten year olds. (Yes, he was telling the truth.) I was just speculating what Logan would do in that situation.


	21. Phone Calls and Unwelcome Guests

December 31, 2007 (Yes, I did finally update in 2007, believe it or not!)

My apologies, as usual, for not updating sooner. I sincerely hope all you readers had a Merry Christmas and will have a Happy New Year. With all the chaos of life, we need a season to be jolly.

Caribbean Sundown: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the story, and my apologies on the grammar errors. I'll work harder to catch those before the chapter hits the net.

Freegirl: Thanks. I'm glad you like the content of the story. I think stories appeal to a wider crowd of people when they are clean. Not only that, but swearing adds absolutely nothing to any story. Glad you like the plot twists and Wesley. Thanks for a thorough review.

Wanda W: Thanks. I'm glad you like the details, and thank you for the compliment about Wesley. I'm relieved he didn't turn into a Mary-Sue type character. Remy, he should do fine. After all, Gambit is a professional at what he does, and what he does isn't nice.

I was reading the news a few weeks ago, and I found this wonderful story, something that I thought only happened in movies. Some guy who wanted to commit mass murder went to a mega-church in Colorado and started shooting people, and a voluntary security guard shot him multiple times, successfully incapacitating him and saving many lives. I looked at the picture, and there's the security guard, an absolutely beautiful forty-two year old woman named Jeanne Assom. And I used to think it was only in Hollywood films where a stunning woman with a handgun saved the day.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Who are they?" Frank Castle asked Wesley in a low voice, looking at Jubilee, Rogue, and Logan.

Wesley introduced them. "We're in a bit of trouble. I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't know who else to turn to." Wesley said. The Punisher sighed, then walked back into his small apartment. Wesley followed. After a moment's hesitation, so did the other three.

"What happened?" Frank asked, sitting down on a dingy chair. "You better have a good story, showing up on my doorstep like this." Wesley glanced around. The place was nearly the same as the last time he had seen it. A workbench, and desk, a fridge, several guns out on a table. Wesley had slightly been hoping Frank would be at another one of his safe houses. Jubilee and Rogue looked uncomfortable. Frank motioned them to sit, putting the handgun in a holster on his hip.

"I was briefly staying at that school in Westchester, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and-" Wesley stopped suddenly, seeing the questioning look Frank was giving him. "No, I didn't enroll there, I helped two of them out when they were attacked on a backwoods road in Canada and I was taken there for medical treatment. Broken ribs, mild concussion, you get the idea."

"The school was attacked by the military." Logan interrupted. "They kidnapped about six or so of the kids at the school. We escaped, and managed to kill eight of them in the process."

Frank looked rather surprised. "Your school was attacked by the military? Why?"

"Yes. They attacked, we briefly fought them and fled. And I have no idea why they attacked, or what I should do now." Wesley said flatly.

"Xavier's school is a mutant school." Frank said. He gave Logan a look. "I assume…?"

"Yeah. All of us except for him." Logan said, nodding at Wesley. "You got a problem with that?" His questioned had a challenging edge. Frank didn't care.

Frank ignored Logan's question and turned to Wesley. "You're sure it was US military? Not just some private contractors? A terrorist group?"

Wesley closed his eyes, reigning in his frustration. When he spoke, his voice held the respect Frank Castle was owed. "I could tell by their gear. Some sort of special forces. They had 5.7mm P90's, tranquilizer pistols, interceptor body armor, flash grenades, night vision. Who else could it be?"

Frank Castle rubbed his eyes. He dealt with law enforcement officers frequently enough, but avoided tangling with military. "So why couldn't you almighty mutants hold the school? I've heard quite a bit of rumors about how powerful Xavier and his X-Men are." The Punisher smirked at the obvious surprise on the faces of his guests. "You think you can do the things you people do and no one would ever find out about you?"

"Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Xavier were away at the time." Logan said coldly. "Although I did my best to fill in for them." _Snik!_ He extended the claws on his left hand briefly, then retracted them. If Logan hoped to elicit a look of shock from Frank Castle, he failed miserably.

Frank looked almost bored at seeing Logan's claws. "Saw a relative of yours a few weeks ago."

"What?" Logan asked, startled.

"Put that down, now." Frank ordered. Jubilee dropped the stainless steel .357 magnum revolver back onto the workbench. Frank returned his attention to Logan and leaned back in his chair, about to recall the incident. "I was at a crack house two months ago. I'm about to breach a door with a 12 gauge shotgun, when I hear the glass in a window shatter, then some screaming. I waited fifteen seconds, then stormed the room. On the ground is a decapitated, disemboweled serial killer in a pool of blood. The bathroom door is kicked in. Out walks an intruder, with two long claws in each hand. He was wearing some sort of body suit, a balaclava, with goggles covering his face. He glances at me for a second or two, then simply runs and leaps out the window. I checked in the bathroom. Laying there, with a cut chain attached to her ankle, is a teenage girl, Heather Kelley. She had been kidnapped two weeks earlier. The intruder killed her kidnapper, cut her bonds, and left without harming her."

"It was a man?" Logan questioned.

"I couldn't tell what gender the attacker was," Frank said. "There was no exposed skin or hair at all. Roughly four feet five inches, slender build." Logan was silent. He had thought that he was one of a kind, unique, but now things were changing on him.

"Anyway," Wesley said, "we need to-" Someone tapped on the door. Wesley stopped talking, and everyone turned. The Punisher tensed, drawing his sidearm.

"Excuse me?" A woman said quietly from the other side of the door. Frank relaxed and walked to the door, opening it.

"Yes, Joan?" Frank asked the woman, speaking gently. Joan was his next door neighbor at that apartment complex, a thirty-something blond woman trying to restart her life.

She stepped into the room, looking at Wesley and Logan. "Is one of you named Logan?" She had a cordless phone in her hand. "Because, someone's on the phone wanting to talk with him."

"That'd be me." Logan said. Joan stared for a moment, taking in his appearance. Logan held out a hand. "Oh, right." Joan said. "Just leave it outside by door when you're done." She handed him the phone and left the small apartment. Logan put the phone to his ear. Frank, Wesley, Jubilee, and Rogue were all dead silent, looking on. Logan hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Hello?" He asked finally. The mystery phone call had even unnerved him somewhat, Wesley noted.

"Logan?" A voice said. "It's Jean. What happened? The school is totally empty, we couldn't raise anyone on-"

"Jean? How'd you…?" Logan interrupted.

"What? Get this number?" Jean said. "I basically opened up my mind to several thousand people at a time in various New York counties and listened for any of you guys to think loudly. Like walking into a crowded convention center blindfolded and finding someone just by stumbling around until you hear him talking. Then I figured out your location and found a nearby telephone once I had the address. What happened at the school?" At this point Frank got up to leave. He whispered something to Wesley about checking over the van for explosives or tracking devices before leaving the room.

"It got raided. Several dozen soldiers, military." Logan said. "Peter took most of the kids and escaped into the woods through the tunnel system. I was covering their escape and ran into Jubilee and Wesley. We made our way to the garage and escaped in a van. We found Marie a short distance away from the school on the main road. She and Remy came back late from their date. Remy saw what was going on, and he went to check it out. We haven't heard from him."

"Put it on speakerphone." Wesley ordered. Logan complied.

"You're on speakerphone, Jean." Logan said. "All four of us are listening."

"Scott and Charles were kidnapped." Jean said. "When they visited Magneto in prison. Charles managed to use telepathy to alert me just before being incapacitated. Government agents ambushed them."

"How?" Rogue asked. "How could they capture both Scott and the Professor, while they are together? That'd be a tough duo to beat."

"I don't know." Jean admitted. "Charles didn't have time to tell me."

"What do we do now?" Wesley asked. "They captured several students at the school, and we can hardly go to the authorities, seeing that Logan and I killed some the raiders at the school before escaping. You know what the punishments are for killing federal agents, even if they are the ones in the wrong."

"We have to regroup, and get Scott and Charles back," Jean said, "Ororo and I are on the way. We'll be at your location in thirteen minutes."

"I don't think you can land the jet here." Jubilee said. "There's a lot of junk, refuse, whatever. Their barely looks like enough room to park a car, much less a jet."

"Where would you suggest?" Jean asked.

"There's an abandoned gas station two blocks north of us." Logan said. "Their parking lot is clear, would that do?"

"Should be fine." Ororo said, breaking into the conversation. Apparently, Storm was the one flying the jet. "We'll talk again in a few minutes and fill you guys in on all the details." She hung up.

"So, they waited until Storm and Jean were out, and the Professor and Scott were visiting Magneto, then they hit the school." Wesley said. "Divide and conquer."

"I doubt those troops at the school were acting officially." Logan said. "Law-enforcement, BATF, FBI, they always put a perimeter around whatever compound. If the first attack force is repulsed, they'd be able to just settle down for a siege."

"I'd better ask Frank if I can leave my van parked here." Wesley said. "Might not be back for it for several days."

"Do that." Logan said. "And remember not to leave that machine gun in your car, either. You might need it later."

------------------------

Frank did a quick examination of the van. No bugs, no explosives. He didn't expect to find any. From what he had heard, the invasion of the school didn't sound like a blatant attempt to capture a bunch of mutants. He looked over Wesley's captured weapon. It was indeed a FN Herstel P90 sub-machine gun, a weapon costing roughly a thousand dollars. He laid the weapon back in the van, covering it with a discarded coat that had been on the backseat. Satisfied no one could see the weapon by merely peering in through a window, he closed the back doors and locked the vehicle. The doors had required little pushing to loudly slam into place. The van was armored up, with several inches of steel plating inserted into the doors, safeguarding the passengers from small arms fire.

He heard the slight crunch of gravel under a boot and turned.

"We've got a ride on the way." Wesley said, walking quickly towards him. "Professor Xavier's personal jet. Jean and Ororo are on it. Can I leave my van here for a few days, tops?"

"You can't land a jet anywhere near here." Frank Castle said curtly. He tossed him the van keys. Wesley caught them easily. "Nearest airfield is over ten miles away."

"This jet is highly modified." Wesley said. "They could land it in a Wal-Mart parking lot, they'll easily be able to land it right around here. It also has a cloaking feature, making it very hard to see. Don't worry."

"Fine. You can leave your van, if you really want to. The garage is in the back." Frank said. He didn't seem to be paying much attention, instead staring off at something. Wesley followed his gaze. A black, brand new looking SUV was slowly driving amid the run down buildings, making it's way toward them.

"They look out of place." Wesley said quietly, noticing Frank's look of concentration. "Know who they are?"

"Not exactly, but I have good idea." Frank said. "An informant gave me a heads up. The Pinette family is upset with me. I hit a chop shop they own. Now they want to hit me." A chop shop was a place stolen cars were taken, and dismantled to be sold for parts across the country. They were fronts for all sorts of illegal activity. Just a day earlier a woman had pulled up to a stoplight, and was shot dead in cold blood. The carjacker simply opened the door, threw body onto the sidewalk, and drove off.

"You hit a chop shop? Hit, as in, set it on fire, informed the cops about it?" Wesley asked gingerly. He was fairly certain what Frank meant, but wanted to verify. He couldn't really object to what Frank did to criminals, but it still was horrifying._ Even justice seems cruel in such a twisted world as ours._ Wesley thought.

"Hit, as in killed thirty-two of its employees, caught the manager of the shop, tossed him in a garbage compactor, then turned it on." The Punisher said, not changing the tone of his voice or the expression on his face. "Anyway, I plan ahead." He turned and walked rapidly back to his apartment. Wesley followed. The Punisher threw his apartment door open, quickly walking past Logan, Jubilee, and Rogue to the back of the room. Whatever conversation had been going on, abruptly stopped. Jubilee had a guilty look on her face, as if she had just been saying something rude. If Frank noticed, he didn't care. He opened a wooden crate and took out an M 79 single shot 40mm grenade launcher. It was older technology, used in Vietnam. But it could still inflict devastating damage, enough destroy a helicopter.

"Something wrong?" Rogue asked, a hint of fear in her voice.

Frank sighed, taking a massive shell out of the elastic pouch on the side of the launcher and loading it with the air of a practiced expert. "Just some unwelcome visitors, Marie." He said calmly. "Nothing to worry about. Just stay here, both of you." He ordered two the girls.

"You're going to kill someone?" Jubilee asked. She sounded rather opposed to the notion.

"That's the general idea," Frank said, striding out of the door, holding the grenade launcher casually, not unlike how many people hold their briefcases when on the way to work. Logan looked at Wesley.

"Does he normally act this way?" He asked. He had met two of Wesley's friends so far. Remy and Frank. An expert robber and a brutal vigilante. He could only imagine what the Private Military Contractor Company Wesley worked for was like. "Better question, are all your friends so… out of the ordinary? Do you have any normal friends?"

"Who's normal these days?" Wesley said, shrugging. He followed Frank Castle outside the building. Frank took out a monocular and studied the enemy vehicle for a few moments, confirming that the occupants were the hitmen he was expecting. He handed the monocular to Wesley, and aimed the grenade launcher. Wesley examined the driver. Suit. Sunglasses. Silver earring, bald.

"Distance?" Frank asked. The monocular had a range-finding feature. Frank was going to kill them, it was clear.

"Two hundred fifty-eight meters, closing at four meters a second." Wesley said. Grenade launchers fired at a slow velocity compared to a rifle. Frank would have to carefully calculate the speed and distance to accurately compensate for projectile drop and target movement, if he wanted hit the vehicle and destroy it with the first shot.

Frank aimed carefully, leading the target for several moments. He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. Then he fired. Wesley could see the grenade, a blur as it flew threw the air. The SUV instantly exploded, the tires and doors flying off as the main vehicle was lifted into the air by the power of the grenade. Wesley winced as the wave of searing heat reached them. Frank closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the small victory. The shell of the SUV smashed to the ground, the metal screeching as lost its shape. Flames encircled the wreckage for at least ten feet on all sides, the gasoline that had been in the fuel tank adding to the fire.

"How long, untill…?" Wesley asked, his words trailing off as he stared at the burning vehicle. He was intending to finish his question, but his mind was having a hard time focusing after seeing the Punisher calmly kill three people who, at the time of their deaths, had not been posing a threat. Wesley had killed those soldiers at the school without hesitation, but it those kills had been in self-defense, in a fight with adrenaline rushing.

"Three to seven minutes." Frank Castle said, knowing what the younger man was trying to ask. What the police response time was.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sincerely hope I portrayed Frank Castle accurately enough. He's my favorite Marvel character. He's not in the least afraid to use violence against criminals who want to kill him. It so annoys me, in the 90's Spider-Man, The Animated Series cartoons, how Spider-Man always saves various villains from death and injury. I always think something along the lines of, _He's a villain who wants to rip your arms of, has tried to kill you multiple times, even kidnapped the beautiful blond who's always flirting with you, tried to turn her into a vampire, and you __**fought Blade just to save him?!**_

Anyway, this chapter actually was a good bit longer, but I decided to cut out a couple of chunks that didn't seem to fit. Hope it turned out okay, especially considering all the work that went into it. Please leave a review.

Frank's apartment, nieghbors, and such, I got from the 2004 movie The Punisher. I also watched the game by the same name, in order to better be able to portray the character.


	22. Chats, Police, Jets, and Escapes

Okay, folks, here is the next, long over-due installment of X-Men: Extra Guys, the Extra Guys being Gambit, Jubilee, (For two chapters, and more to come, since he is my favorite comic book character) Frank Castle, and the original character I couldn't resist throwing in, Wesley Judson.

As stated before, these characters and the franchise belong solely to Marvel and Stan Lee, and if they want me to stop writing this non-profit (I have not made a single penny off this work) story, merely let me know and I will pull it down from the internet within five minutes of reading the email.

Thank you, Wanda W for reviewing chapter 21. I greatly appreciate all reviews.

I hope you all had a Happy Easter, the holiday we celebrate remembering the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Logan, Jubilee, and Rogue stared at the flaming vehicle. Rogue and Jubilee had only seen things like that in movies, and it had been years since Logan had been witness to such things. The door swung open, and Frank Castle strode back in, holding the M79 grenade launcher over his shoulder, like a hunter would with a shotgun. He carefully placed the grenade launcher back into the wooden crate, closing it gently.

"Where's Wesley?" Jubilee questioned, looking at the grenade launcher, the obliterated SUV, and the Punisher. It was obvious what she was wondering.

"Parking his van in the garage around back." The Punisher said. "Can't leave it out front, just begging for the police to check the plates."

"Won't, like, whoever owns this building wonder whose van is in the garage?" She asked. Frank shook his head.

"My neighbor Dave can just tell him he's doing some work on a friend's car." Frank said. "No problem." Logan broke his attention away from the Punisher's handiwork. They needed to get out of there before the place was crawling with police.

"We have to go." Logan said. "Before police bottle the area up and start looking for a certain grenadier."

"They won't look too hard." The Punisher said. "They know I operate in this area, and most of the cops that will show up don't want to catch me that badly."

"I don't want to bet on it." Logan said. "Somehow I doubt they'd let you go if they spotted you." Frank shrugged. He walked over to a trunk of clothing and took out a bundled black shirt, tossing it to Logan. Logan looked briefly confused.

"The bullet holes and blood on your shirt look conspicuous." Frank said. "Better to keep a low profile." Logan shook the shirt out. No skull icon was on it.

"Thanks." He said, tugging it on over his bloodied shirt.

The door banged open again, and Wesley ran in, now sporting a dark navy colored trench coat that effectively hid his body armor and the P90 submachine gun. "We gotta go."

"What took ya so long?" Rogue said. "We were about to leave without you."

"Parked my van around back in the garage." Wesley said. He turned towards the door, then stepped back, as if remembering something. He slung the P90 off his shoulder and offered it to Frank. "Do you want it? Since it's full auto, short barreled, and certainly not NFA registered, I can't legally posses it, and I don't want to have to worry about ditching it later. None of that matters to you." Frank accepted it, looking over the weapon quickly, like an expert jeweler examining a gold ring.

"Can never have too many weapons." Frank said. "Thanks. I'll make sure to wipe your prints off it before I take it out with me." In combat situations, he frequently would run out of ammo and magazines for the weapons he had brought, throw them away, and pick up new, fresh guns from enemies he had just killed.

"We have to go." Logan repeated. "See you around, maybe." He said to the Punisher, before leaving. Jubilee and Rogue followed. Wesley shrugged, walking after them.

"Vaya con Dios, Judson." Frank said. "Go with God."

Wesley paused in the doorway, glancing back. "I ask him for his guidance and help everyday." He said.

The police had fast response time in that neighborhood. Two squad cars had already arrived, with four officers. Two were holding police issue remington 870 pump shotguns, one was speaking on a radio, and the fourth was setting up a yellow tape perimeter around the scene, a mere eight hundred or so feet away from them.

"More police are doubtlessly on the way." Wesley said. "We have to get out of the area quickly. NYPD have a habit of stopping people in these sort of neighborhoods and frisking them for anything suspicious."

"No kidding, genius?" Logan retorted sarcastically. "Let's split up and head straight for the gas station. It's only a few blocks north."

"Yea, walk in two pairs of two and look less weird." Jubilee said. "Me and Wesley, you and Rogue." Wesley was okay with that.

"Should be fine." Rogue said. "Let's go, Logan. You two follow in a minute." She said to Jubilee and Wesley. Her and Logan started off. Wesley glanced at his watch, turning on its timer, watching after them leave.

"Don't be nervous." Jubilee said. "Fear attracts the fearful, and those cops are freaked out, not merely nervous like most cops. Look confident and they won't pay much attention to you."

"Learn that from experience?" Wesley asked neutrally, glancing at Jubilee. "Or from a friend?"

"Why, do I look like a criminal to you?" Jubilee said, clasping her hands behind her back, smiling innocently at Wesley.

"No. But you didn't answer my question." Wesley said. Jubilee hesitated. Wesley watched her face closely. Her eyes looked up to the right for a moment, then she spoke.

"A girl I knew in high school." Jubilee said, looking away. Her right hand brushed the hair back over her ears. "She was busted for shoplifting. Her parents transferred her to another school, and I never saw her again."

"Jubes, if one of my instructors was here right now, he would tell me you are lying." Wesley said. Jubilee looked hurt, or guilty. Wesley couldn't tell which.

"Why?" She asked, sounding wounded.

"Your eyes rolled up, and to the right. Then you answered me. Not only that, but you nervously touched your hair while talking." Wesley said. He glanced at his watch. "We have to head towards the site." He nodded towards the closed down gas station and started walking, rolling his shoulders, trying to relieve the ache the weight of his body armor gave them. Jubilee followed.

"What the heck does that have to do with anything?" Jubilee said. "I was just remembering what she looked like."

"Currently science suggests that when someone looks up and to the right, they are accessing the creative side of their brain." Wesley said, a look of annoyance on his face. "Looking up and to the left means they are recalling a memory, something visual, mostly. That's what one of my teachers told me. Another said he knew that by experience, from interrogating people."

"Huh." Jubilee said.

"So… was that true or false?" Wesley said. Jubilee was about to respond, and he added, "Be honest. Please. And if I'm wrong, I do deeply apologize."

"Kay." Jubilee said hesitantly. "I learned that myself, while living at a supermall. I stole a lot of stuff after the store closed, and sometimes during the day. I made a little cash giving light shows to shoppers, but that wasn't enough. So I had to steal, and fool cops in the process." She glanced up at him. "Happy you caught me lying?"

"No. On the contrary, I was hoping I was wrong." Wesley said. He rubbed his eyes, the irritated look fading. "I hate to ask the obvious question, but how did you end up living at a mall?"

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Logan and Marie tramped along, stepping through waist-high weeds, avoiding beer cans and broken glass. Neither spoke for a minute. Logan wondered if he should break the silence. Marie decided for him.

"So… why exactly do you hate Remy so much?" Marie asked. Logan was surprised at her choice of conversation material.

"He's a professional thief, and a womanizer." Logan said. "His last name, LeBeau, is the name of a well-known crime family down in New Orleans. Put shortly, he's probably just a few steps above standard garbage." He said the words bluntly.

"You hardly have any right to criticize him." Marie snapped back angrily. Logan raised an eyebrow. She had leaped pretty quickly to Gumbo's defense, he noticed.

"Maybe not." Logan said tiredly. "Since when was my approval necessary anyway?"

"It's not." Marie said. "But I do appreciate it." There was a slight yearning in her voice, a need to be told that she wasn't a delinquent, that she mattered and she was doing fine in life. _The teenage need for reassurance, _Logan realized, and felt like groaning. Now he felt this burden to try to be a better person, if just for the sake of not being a bad influence. _Good Lord, now I know how fathers feel._ There was silence again for a few moments, and Logan felt a pressing need to say something, preferably something constructive.

"You shouldn't let what other people think bother you," Logan said, "as long as you know what you are doing isn't wrong." He inwardly winced at how stupid that statement must have sounded, coming from him. Marie nodded though, as if some wise pastor had just said that, not a cage-fighter who slept around.

"Okay." She said finally, looking away, as if she wanted to end the conversation.

"I just don't want you to hang with the wrong crowd," Logan said awkwardly. "You've got your whole life ahead of you. You could be a lawyer, a doctor, whatever. Someone decent, respectable. You don't have to turn out like me."

"You're not happy with your life?" Marie asked, knowing full well the answer she would probably get.

"I just feel like I'm missing half of something." Logan said, frustrated. "Something that would make me feel… I don't know, completed. Fuller." He felt like a person in the middle of a race, only he didn't know were the goal was or how to get there. He considered saying that and thought better of it. _Heck no. _He was not going to start pouring out his life's sorrows to a teenage girl who looked at him as if he was her dad.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

"- and in a few years I'll be a famous singer," Jubilee finished taking her third breath for three minutes straight of talking, "earning a small fortune at every concert." The conversation had gone from how she ended up at the school to what she planned to do with her life.

"I should get your autograph now," Wesley said, smiling, "and frame it, so I can brag to people how I met you before you became a household name across the States." Jubilee nodded.

"Smart thing to do." She said, faking seriousness. "Maybe you'll get to be my bodyguard. Protect me from hoards of crazy fans and assassins sent by rival bands."

"Make sure all your sport cars have been bullet-proof glass installed." Wesley said. "Jason Bourne forgot about that, and look what happened."

"I know!" Jubilee said, switching topics entirely. "They made Marie the main character in Bourne Identity, then they killed her off in the sequel! In the books she lived and they got married!"

"The third part, Ultimatum, is out." Wesley said. "Maybe it ends well."

"Ehh, it's still in the fifteen dollar theaters." Jubilee said. "Add popcorn, a soda, and a box of candy, and it's twenty-five bucks. Cheaper to wait and buy the dvd first week it comes out." She glanced back over her shoulder. The police were a safe distance back; they were almost to the landing site.

"How about, if on Friday, neither of us are dead, recovering from gunshot wounds, or wanted by the Feds, we go see it in theaters?" Wesley proposed. "Better yet, go to a Golden Corral, then see it?" Jubilee looked surprised. Wesley shrugged, grinning. "Dinner and a movie, the least I could offer a girl who helped me survive a school shooting."

"Okay." Jubilee said. "Why not?"

lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Logan stepped around the decaying workhorses left to block the entrance to the partially-demolished gas station. The main building was still standing, but the pumps were removed, along with their overhead structure. The Blackbird would have plenty of room to land, Logan noted. The glass windows on the station had been knocked out, replaced by plywood boards, and the door was held shut by a chain and a padlock. Logan froze, listening carefully, taking in every sound. Nothing

"It's empty?" Rogue whispered, looking at the small building. Logan nodded.

"Except for us." Logan said, looking up into the sky. "They should be here soon. Very soon."

"At least they've made it without any trouble." Rogue said, looking back. Wesley and Jubilee were just a dozen paces away.

"There!" Logan said, pointing into the sky. "Right on time." Rogue shaded her eyes and looked up.

"I don't see anything." She said doubtfully.

"A shimmer, like the cloud rippled slightly." Logan said. Marie shrugged and gave up looking. "I guess my eyes are a little better." Logan remarked. He turned as Wesley and Jubilee arrived, their shoes clomping on asphalt.

"So far, so good," Wesley said in greeting. "Let's hope extraction goes this smoothly."

"You mean they actually plan on getting us out of here alive someday?" Jubilee asked, frustrated and feeling exhausted.

"I think I'll tell Jean you said that." Logan threatened, tired, and not about to put up with some smart aleck girl's whining. "She'll make you clean the restrooms and the shower rooms for the rest of the month."

"Go ahead." Jubilee shot back, unfazed. "Then I'll tell Scott exactly where you are hiding those cigars and beers, then he'll get Jean off my back _and _give me the a free pass in Calculus he was offering the class yesterday as a reward."

"He was **what**?" Logan snarled. He suddenly felt no sorrow that Scott was currently MIA. Wesley groaned, rubbing his forehead to ease the headache they were giving him.

"Would you two mind shutting it?" Rogue asked, stomping one foot on the ground. "Sheesh, you two are acting little kids. What really scares me is that both of you are old enough to drive. I don't want to know how many people you two will end up running off the road 'cause they cut ahead of you in traffic."

"There's our ride!" Wesley cut in, before Jubilee or Logan could respond to Rogue. All three looked up, shading their eyes.

"Where?" Logan said. "You're seeing things, junior."

"Three, two, one-" Wesley snapped his fingers. The outline of the jet became visible, several hundred feet above them. It was still in stealth mode, but it was near enough to make out the distinct outline. From a few blocks away, a person would merely think it was heat making the air shimmer, or something like that.

"They can't land in stealth mode." Jubilee said. "The cops will see it."

"Why can't they land in that mode?" Wesley questioned, looking around anxiously.

"Scott explained it to me once, but I forgot the details." She said. "They can only use stealth mode when flying at low speeds because it takes most of the power the ship has. The jet requires a lot of power to land and take off, he said."

"Let's give them room." Logan said. No one moved. "As in, we get out the landing zone?" He growled.

The jet circled a few times around the area, then came in for a landing, similar to how helicopters landed. At one hundred and fifty feet up, small jets in the underbelly kicked in, lowering the jet to the ground. The stealth mode shut off. The jet was fully visible, black titanium glinting in the sun. Wesley glanced back at the squad cars surrounding the wreckage sight. The police seemed frozen, staring at the jet, as if Jean was controlling their minds. Two seconds passed. Wesley's tension started to fade.

Three officers bolted to their cars. Sirens started blaring again. Two squad cars started speeding towards them. Wesley looked up. The jet was hovering at a hundred feet.

**BAMF! **All four turned. A freakish blue demonic looking creature was suddenly standing in front of them.

_Snik! _ Logan's claws extended. "Who the heck are you?!"

"A friend!" The creature said, his voice carrying a heavy German accent. He reached out a three-fingered hand and grabbed Rogue's arm. **BAMF! **They both vanished, leaving behind a stinking cloud of smoke. Almost instantly, there was another '**BAMF!' **and he reappeared. Logan lunged forward without hesitating, swinging a claw, roaring angrily. The creature ducked agilely under the blow, and placed a hand on Logan's upper arm. **BAMF! **They both vanished instantly. Wesley and Jubilee glanced at each other, stepping back from where Logan had been.

A police car slammed through the workhorses blocking the entrance of the gas station, screeching to a halt. An officer stepped out, handgun aimed at them. Wesley turned away, nudging Jubilee to do the same, letting the officer see only their backs. **BAMF! **The creature appeared again, this time behind them, between them and the police officer.

"On your knees, hands on your head! Now!" The officer shouted. The blue teleporter laughed merrily, grabbing Jubilee's raised hand with his right, while placing his left hand on Wesley's shoulder.

"Sorry officer, very busy schedule, you understand, ja?" He said. **BAMF! **The officer fired twice. When the black smoke cleared a moment later, all three were gone.

Jubilee opened her eyes and looked around. They were on the jet, along with Storm, Jean, Wolvie, Rogue, and the blue thing.

"Who are you?" Wesley asked the blue thing.

"I am Kurt Wagner," The blue mutant said proudly, "but in the Munich Circus, I was known as the incredible Nightcrawler!"

Storm accelerated the jet, leaving the Punisher's neighborhood, and the police, far behind.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the changes I made to the plot. Frank Castle, the Punisher, will be a large character in some future chapters. (I'm 90 sure I'm bringing him back into the story.) Also, him saying to Wesley "Go with God" is not that out of character, I'm hoping. In the comic books, Frank Castle was in training to be a Catholic Priest before he went into his career of law enforcement, and he knows Wesley is a Christian.

On the pairings issue, Romy will be back with the X-Men, and Rogue most importantly, by the end of the next chapter, and Logan flirting with Jean while Scott is gone will also continue. I think Wesley asking Jubilee out on a date worked okay into the story, and I thought most of you readers would be fine with it, as Wesley is not a Mary-Sue character in the least, (and the reviewers agree with me on that). Besides, who doesn't enjoy character's getting closer to each other? It adds depth to the story.

Poll: Should I break up Jean Grey and Scott Summers by bringing Emma Frost into the story, whom Scott had an affair with in the comic books, then pair Jean and Logan up? Let me know! I will follow popular vote! If the vote is no, I do have something else planned, that should work out decently.

For all the only-movie watchers, Jubilee, in this story, (just slightly changed from her comic book past) was from a wealthy family, but her parents were murdered by hitmen in California, and she ran away from the orphanage she was sent to, living at a supermall, stealing and giving light shows with her powers to earn cash. Jean and Storm were shopping at the mall and saw one of her shows, and she ended up back at the mansion.

(We may see her past incorporated into the plot: Wesley, a friend of Jubilee, is good friends with the Punisher, who kills murderers, and Jubilee's parents were murdered by hitmen, you can guess what might happen I hope.)

Please review. I put hours into this chapter alone. Reviewing only takes a few moments, yet very few people do it. Folks, I don't mind if someone has read my entire story, and then leaves a ten word review on the last chapter, I feel a great joy over each and every single review I receive. My joy in writing comes from being told that the story is interesting and people take pleasure in reading it. All it takes is three people taking fifteen seconds each and writing a one sentence review of the chapter telling me they liked it, and I will happily begin work on the next chapter almost immediately. I'm not hard to please, am I?

Side note: Golden Corral: a popular, classy buffet restaurant, at least popular around Atlanta. For twelve bucks you get all you can eat of pizza, steak, fish, chicken, soups, salads, pie, ice cream, brownies, and various casseroles.


	23. Hitchhikers may be escaped felons

I know, I'm not updating quickly. I did come up with a long chapter, five pages on my word processing program. My thanks to faithful readers, and to reviewers.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"What was that down there?" Jean asked, adjusting a few controls on the Blackbird. They were at an even 28,000 feet, and doing a smooth two hundred and fifty miles an hour. "I didn't expect such a heavy police presence. We almost didn't get everyone out."

"Oh, just maniac friends of certain people blowing up cars with the passengers still in them." Rogue said lightly.

"What?!" Storm said, her head turning quickly. "What exactly is she talking about, Logan?" Jubilee laughed quietly at the look of indignation on Logan's face; Storm had automatically assumed that it was one of _his _friends Rogue was referring too.

"Mafia related violence." Wesley interrupted quickly. "Nothing to be worried about. I'm pretty sure the police won't be able to identify us from the glimpses of our faces they saw, and their dash cameras didn't get a good look at us either." He was about to change the subject, but Logan beat him to it.

"So what happened? Who kidnapped the Professor and Scott?" Logan demanded to know. "And, isn't this the guy who tried to kill the President? Why isn't he getting a one way trip to the Void?" The Void was an ultra-high security mutant prison, for mutant criminals who couldn't be securely held in regular conditions.

"It vas not my fault. I was kidnapped and zis man somehow forced me to…" Kurt trailed off.

"He was kidnapped, and they used some sort of serum on him, he couldn't control himself." Storm said, defending Kurt. "It was not his fault. Jean read his mind and verified it."

"Ookay." Jubilee said slowly, keeping Logan from saying anything outrageous. "So, he'll be staying at the mansion a while?"

"If God vills it, yes." The blue mutant said. He seemed honest, a good guy.

"You believe in God?" Wesley asked, happy to finally see a fellow believer after hanging around a bunch of evolutionists so long.

"By his grace I have been saved." Kurt replied.

"Happy to meet you." Wesley said, offering a hand, smiling broadly. "I'm Wesley Judson."

"Can we save introductions for later?" Logan growled. "Could you answer my question today, Jean?"

"Stryker." Jean said. "That's what the Professor said. Colonel Stryker. He'd met the Professor before. His son was born with the ability to cast illusions in people's minds. Stryker hated him, and tried to get Xavier to cure him. Xavier couldn't, or wouldn't, and the son drove Stryker's wife insane, and she finally committed suicide. Stryker has hated all mutants ever since."

"Stryker." Logan repeated. He growled angrily and smashed a fist against the side of the jet, leaving four small dents where his knuckles hit. Kurt looked disgusted at such behavior. Jubilee was just glad he didn't have his claws out when he hit the wall. Rogue looked worried.

"Logan!" Jean snapped. "Control yourself!"

"Vats irritating him?" Kurt asked. Wesley answered for Logan.

"Colonel Stryker was personally leading the raid on the school." Wesley said. "Logan recognized him, and Stryker addressed Logan as if he was an old friend."

"What were they after at the school?" Storm asked. "The students? They were trying to kidnap them?"

"I don't know, but I seriously doubt is was an attempt at ethnic cleansing." Wesley said, rubbing his eyes. "I tried interrogating a commando I got the drop on, but he managed to throw me off. Jubilee flashed blinded him, then I shot him in the head."

Storm and Kurt gave him shocked, semi-horrified looks, as if he had just confessed to murder. Wesley's eyes narrowed.

"Would you rather I be the corpse?" He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Sometimes it boils down to kill or be killed. It's not wrong to defend yourself."

"No need to get smarmy, Wesley." Jean said. "Rogue, I don't suppose you managed to touch one?"

"No, sorry." Rogue said. "You haven't heard from Remy, have you?"

"No. Why?" Jean asked, somewhat dreading the answer.

"He went into the school, when came back and saw the helicopters there." Rogue said. "Do you think he's okay?" Her voice trembled slightly.

"Remy is an expert at infiltration and stealth." Wesley said, trying to make her feel better. "I'm sure he's fine. He could steal beer from Logan if he wanted to."

"If we don't know where Stryker, Scott, and the Professor are, what exactly do we do?" Rogue asked. "What can we do?" Jean was thinking of an answer when Storm spoke.

"Jean?" Storm said. "We have a problem." She tapped the radar display screen. Two F-16 fighter jets, commonly called 'Vipers' by the pilots who flew them, were rapidly approaching, moving to take up flanking positions alongside the blackbird.

"Unidentified aircraft, you are not cleared for this airspace. We are to escort you to land immediately at Dobbin's Air Force base, approximately seven miles north-northeast of your current heading." Jean looked over at Storm, who looked just as unpleasantly surprised as herself. As far as they knew, they weren't over restricted air space: why were F-16's on them?

"We are **so** not landing." Jean said. She didn't really care that her remark sounded like something Jubilee would say.

"I second that!" Logan agreed. Storm looked tired.

"This is not going to be easy." Storm told Jean warningly.

"Like we have an option? They raided the school, kidnapped Scott and the Professor, who knows what'll happen to us if we land. In two weeks our relatives will start wondering what happened to us, file missing person reports with the police, and our faces will end up on those 'Have you seen me?' fliers." Jean told her furiously. "Ditch them." Storm sighed, rubbing her forehead, trying to formulate a plan.

"Everyone, strap in." Storm said. She accelerated the jet to combat speeds, armed countermeasures, and activated manual controls. The jet engines roared as the blackbird tripled her speed, from 250mph to 750mph, pushing everyone back in their seats.

"Hey! Do you read me? Descend to fifteen thousand feet, adjust your flight path to Dobbin's Air Force Base, and land!" A pilot said angrily as the jet's acceleration left the fighters behind. "This is your final warning!"

The blackbird's computer gave a warning. "Enemy aircraft has achieved missile lock. Recommend evasive maneuvers."

"Brilliant computer you have there," Wesley said dryly. "I would never have thought of that."

The craft's onboard computer screeched a warning, and several lights flashed red.

"Missile loose, missile loose!" Jean exclaimed. F-16 number one had launched a sidewinder missile at them. Storm threw the jet into a steep dive, sending the Blackbird plummeting like a rock below the cloud level.

"Countermeasures on my mark, three, two, one!" Storm said. Jean hit a button, and a swarm of small rockets launched from the back of the jet. The missile hit one and detonated, and the jet pulled out of the dive.

"Hold your fire, hold your fire!" Jean pleaded over the radio. "We have unarmed civilians aboard!"

"Proceed to land immediately!" One of the pilots countered. Jean clenched a fist angrily and gave Storm a look. Storm nodded.

"Transferring primary controls." Storm said, hitting several switches. A dim part of the control panel in from of Jean lit up: she was now flying the jet. Storm stared straight ahead, her eyes turning white.

"Whoa." Rogue said, awed at Storm's power. The sky darkened almost instantly, the sun hidden from sight. Funnel clouds sprouted and reached down, eerily similar to Dragon's Teeth in a battlefield. Jean smoothly rolled the jet to the right, dodging one cyclone, then another. One F-16 didn't evade in time, and a small cyclone briefly engulfed it, killing the engines and sending it spinning out of control. The pilot swore loudly over the radio and ejected.

Wesley idly wondered what the F-16 would hit and obliterate when it smashed into the ground, thousands of feet below them.

"One down, one to go!" Jean said, somewhat cheered by the small victory.

**BOOMBOOMBOOM! **The second F-16 pilot had seen what happened to his wingmate, guessed what was going to happen to him, and had fired a burst from his 20mm autocannons before colliding with a cyclone and ejecting safely.

The huge rounds tore through the titanium skin of the jet and shredded the insides of one engine. The blackbird was thrown in a spin, one engine destroyed, the other roaring at high speeds, hurling the jet towards the ground like a deranged frisbee. The X-Men had modified the jet to be able to lift off and fly using one engine only, but they had been going 750 mph when hour when engine 2# was blown out, making the modifications null and void.

"Can you teleport us to the ground?!" Logan shouted to Kurt. He seemed to shake his head, but it was hard to tell, as everyone was being slammed around in their seat.

"Picture this!" Kurt shouted back. He held up both hands, one open, the other a fist. "Bumpity bumpity bumpity splat!" With each 'bumpity' he moved his fist closer towards the open palm until they collided. "Way to high up and moving way to fast!" When he teleported, he would still retain whatever velocity he had before teleporting. So even if he teleported to mere inches above the ground from the careening jet, he would still be racing towards it at over a hundred feet per second as soon as he materialized.

"I don't have to picture going 'splat' on the ground when I'm aboat to experience it firsthand!" Logan roared.

"Jean! Try slowing us down, I shall do the same!" Storm said. Her eyes turned white and the winds around the jet started spinning, trying to push the blackbird upwards, fighting gravity. Jean focused, trying to telekinetically create a bubble around the blackbird. The rapid fall slowed noticeably, but now it was equivalent to being in a car wreck going eighty miles an hour, still lethal. The ground seemed to rush up to meet them, details of the ground becoming clearly visible, rocks, streams, trees. Kurt started reciting prayers. Logan braced himself, roaring in anger at their doom. Jean and Storm kept trying to slow the jet, as pointless as it was. Rogue and Jubilee closed their eyes and sobbed in terror. Wesley was gripping the arms of his seat, but didn't seem afraid. The ground grew closer and closer and closer, the trees rushing up to meet them-

Then it stopped. The jet simply froze in place a few yards above the ground, like something out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

Magneto turned to Mystique, holding the jet aloft with one hand, the nose of the eighty million dollar aircraft less than twenty feet away from his fingers. "When are these people going to learn how to fly?"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Magneto smoothly walked up the stairs into the now-landed blackbird, practically reeking of arrogance with every step, Mystique a pace behind him, a mocking, sneering expression on her face. They were greeted by looks of surprise, disgust, and several stares from two people trying to calculate how to kill them both.

"Well, I see you managed to escape from prison." Jean commented, leaning back in her chair, masking the fear she felt. Mystique was formidable in unarmed combat, and Magneto could warp metal with ease. If a fight broke out, it would end in a very short and bloody ten seconds, for one way or the other.

"My dear, you quite a gift for the obvious." Magneto said, sounding as patronizing as usual. Mystique smirked.

"What do you want?" Storm asked flatly. Magneto would not have saved them unless he needed their help, that she knew.

"Just to have a little chat." Magneto said, sitting down.

"How's the leg?" Logan asked cuttingly, to several snickers, namely from Wesley, Rogue, and Jubilee. It hadn't been that long since the Liberty Island incident, when Logan rammed a claw through the floor and into Magneto's foot and up his calf.

"Much better, thank you for asking." Magneto said, undaunted. "How's the memory?" Logan unsheathed his middle claw briefly in response.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Remy held the tiny mirror up around the corner, using it to peek down the next hallway. There was a surveillance camera, in the exact same position the last hallway's camera was. He looked around again, nervous. He was wearing one of the soldier's uniforms, but if another soldier asked him a question, or just saw his glowing red eyes, the uniform would not help him in the least. He reached up and touched the power cable that ran down the tunnel, charging it slightly. The lights flickered from the overload, going off for two seconds, then returning to normal performance as the extra charge faded.

That was all he needed to dash down the hallway and past the camera, though. He had found out where the captured students from the school were being kept, but he had no idea how he would rescue a bunch of kids, get them to the hanger, open the bay doors, hijack an aircraft and get out alive. He had already eliminated two soldiers in the base; it would only be a matter of time before their corpses were discovered and the entire compound was scoured for him. When that happened, they would eventually find him and kill him, of that he had no doubts. He was running out of time.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"Colonel Stryker does indeed have Charles." Magneto continued. "He interrogated me for information about all of you, and cerebro, while I was imprisoned." He got a few evil looks for that admittance. "I am truly sorry for that." He said sincerely. "I could only resist torture for so long."

"So he decided to try and have us assassinated?" Jean asked incredulously.

"No," Magneto answered. "His target was Cerebro, not any of you. He's building a 'dark' version of cerebro, if you will, and he needed certain parts he couldn't make himself. Mystique discovered this on his personal computer in Washington DC. That's why he kidnapped Charles when he was visiting me in prison. He's the only known mutant with the abilities to properly use cerebro."

"What's he going to use cerebro for?" Wesley asked skeptically. "Find out where we are so he can send the tobacco ninjas to get us?" The term 'tobacco ninjas' was an insulting name for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives, the BATFE. BATFE agents didn't have any especially remarkable training, but they had the numbers and the influence to do anything they wanted to and get away without prosecution. Ruby Ridge and Waco had proved that.

Magneto gave him a look. "Charles, using cerebro to amplify his abilities, could kill us all." Logan and Jubilee snapped to attention.

"And just when were we going to be told this given this little piece of information?" Jubilee demanded of Ororo and Jean.

"That hardly matter now, child. Stryker intends to kill every mutant on the planet, and now he is fully capable of doing so; he chased you from your mansion, so he obviously acquired all the parts he needs. All he has to do is finish his cerebro." Magneto said. "The problem is, Stryker didn't have the location of this 'dark cerebro' on his personal computer. I did realize, though, that one of you has been to his base and his memories could be used to find it."

"The Professor already tried. The memories aren't in my head anymore." Logan said, automatically assuming that he was the one Magneto was referring too. Magneto smirked.

"Again," He said to Logan, "You think only of yourself." He looked directly at Kurt Wagner. It dawned on him precisely what Magneto meant.

"Oh, great." He said unhappily.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Jean placed her hands on Kurt's temples. His breathing was getting more rapid, showing that he getting nervous. _Who wouldn't?_ Jean thought.

"Relax," Jean said. "This won't hurt. I promise." She peered into his mind. His memories flashed before her eyes. Infiltrating the White House. Attacking the President. She looked farther back. A helicopter. A talk in a small office, signing some papers to apply for a job. Going to mass, saying prayers, taking part in communion. She looked forward some.

There. She found it. Kurt involuntarily jerked away as she reawakened the horrible memory, breaking their link. It didn't matter; she had gotten the image needed. Kurt shuddered.

"I wish I could forget." He muttered.

"Doesn't help." Logan told him sadly, understanding perfectly what he was going through. "I forgot, and now I just wish I could remember." Kurt looked up, not comforted by the words, but grateful that Logan cared.

"Lake Alkali." Jean said. "The base is there. There's an entrance hidden in the top of the dam, the spillway area."

"Splendid work." Magneto said. "That's where dark cerebro is, and Charles, and Scott."

"When do we raid them?" Wesley asked, putting his Glock handgun back in the holster, wishing he had thought to pay Frank Castle for some spare magazines and ammo.

"Tomorrow morning?" Magneto suggested. "May as well go to battle well rested."

"If they captured the Professor, have a version of cerebro, and could carry out this plan at anytime, waiting seems very foolish to me." Storm remarked coolly. "We should move as soon as possible." She started inputting the destination into the Blackbird's navigational computer.

"Oh, ya think?" Logan said sarcastically. "What are we standing around here for? Start 'er up! Alkali is a couple hundred miles north of us!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

I'm sorry I didn't get Remy back with the X-Men in this chapter like I promised, but shorter chapters take less time to write, so I'm quicker to finish writing them and start editing and rewriting, so posting is sooner. Shorter chapter? What am I saying? This chapter is 2915 words long, far longer than any high school paper.

Oh, and Dragon's Teeth are these small, concrete or similar pyramids about two feet high, put down in battlefields to divert enemy tanks and armored personnel carriers into paths so they'll be easier to destroy.

One last thing, in the comics, Kurt does believe in God, and is a Roman Catholic. I, being a Protestant, don't believe that Catholicism is accurately teaching God's word or the true path to salvation, but I am fairly certain that a notable percentage of Catholics are truly saved.


	24. Explaining, Planning, Raiding

Thanks, Freegirl, for reviewing. Reviews make the next chapter worth writing.

Oh, and it was raised that it's paradoxical that Wesley is religious yet perfectly willing to kill if the situation requires. I'll try to clarify a little more about Wesley's background in this chapter.

I must celebrate something with you… I just (That is, after I posted the last chapter of this story and before I posted this one) bought a copy of X-Men, and X2, on dvd. Then I bought X-Men Legends, and X-Men Legends 2 for Xbox. (Video Games.) I had only watched them on the internet and read summaries up until now, never rented or bought a copy. Which is why the first dozen or so chapters are not carbon copies of the movie. I hadn't seen the movie at all until I had written a fair amount of chapters. I was going from quotes of and wikipedia. Why would I write a fanfiction story for a movie I had never seen, you may ask?

No idea.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Logan leaned back in his chair, relaxing, and enjoying the momentary quiet around him, at least what Jean or Storm or anyone with normal hearing would call quiet. He could hear people breathing several seats back in the jet, and the brief whispers Mystique and Magneto were exchanging on the bench seat at the very rear of the jet were audible enough to make out. Back at the mansion, he had briefly been deaf from the gunfire. For most people, gunshots in an adrenaline filled life-and-death situation were somehow muffled and the hearing ability of the persons involved frequently remained intact. For reasons unknown, that helpful effect didn't happen to him. If guns were fired near him, he was mostly deaf for the next few minutes.

Logan tapped on Jean's shoulder, "Is it really safe to have those two alone, at the very back of the jet?" He wasn't actually worried; Magneto and Mystique wouldn't be foolish enough to sabotage their own ride, but he couldn't think of any other way to start a conversation. Scott was gone, if only temporally, and he was going to try to enjoy the brief time.

"Well," Jean said. "Unless you want to assign someone to go back and watch them, there's not much to do about it. Besides, this rescue will go a lot easier if they help us." She seemed tense.

"What're you worried about?" Logan asked. Jean gave him a look that said, _Talk about a dumb question._

"The Professor and Scott have been kidnapped, the mansion was raided, Gambit's missing, and we are about to go on a mission with a weakened team, counting on our worse enemies to back us up," She replied tersely. "There's a lot to be worried about, Logan."

"I guess so, but we can only tackle this one thing at a time," He said in an attempt to be a comfort, "deal with each problem as you get to them, and it's easier. Worrying won't change anything. Enjoy each moment as much as you can."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No offense, but it's kinda weird that you're religious, and you work for a security/bodyguard company where you have to shoot people occasionally. Doesn't the Bible say violence is evil, or something?" Jubilee asked Wesley, who was sitting next to her.

"Actually, my dad told me something like that before I joined ARGUS," He said. ARGUS was the security contracting company he worked for. "That I shouldn't go into a line of work in which I'll end up with blood on my hands."

"So, why did you?" Jubilee questioned. "I mean, I went to a church once, and the pastor basically preached that you shouldn't even stand up for yourself. Just let anyone smack you around, and-" She put on her 'An idiot said this' face, "take it for the Lord."

Wesley laughed at her comedic expression. He saw Kurt's head turn slightly on the row of seats directly in front of them, and spoke a little quieter. "Yeah, I've heard that teaching too." The smile faded from his face as he continued. "It doesn't work. Not that way. Unless you want to be a victim, to be prey for some animal with two legs and a dangerous mind." His expression darkened. "Violence is necessary sometimes. I learned that early." That piqued Jubilee's interest slightly, but he didn't continue.

"Hmm?" Jubilee pressed. Wesley leaned back in his seat, rubbing his eyes.

"There was an incident, when I was thirteen." He paused. "I have three siblings," he explained. "My older brother is five years older than me, and he was off working at his summer job. My mom left to run some errands quickly around noon, and left me to watch my little brother and sister, five and seven." Wesley fiddled with a small, unfired handgun round he pulled out of his vest pocket, light glinting off the brass case. "Crime was going up in our neighborhood. Fifteen minutes before she was due to be back, three guys, around twenty or so years old, walked up to our house through our backyard, and knocked on our backdoor. My siblings were upstairs, with me, watching a movie. They didn't know we were home, since the movie was quiet, and the light was off. When no one answered, they kicked the back door in, and started robbing the house."

Jubilee wished she hadn't asked, as the realization of what had probably happened dawned on her. They had beaten him, and killed his siblings, and that's why he had gone into the business of protecting people. The thought grieved her. _That's worse than what happened to me, worse than your parents being killed. Seeing it, having it happen to people you were supposed to be protecting…_

"I had my little brother and sister hide in a closet, ran lightly into my parents room, also on the second floor, found their .38 revolver in the dresser, loaded it, and killed all three of the intruders." Wesley stated flatly. Jubilee was speechless. Wesley seemed to interpret that as an accusation and proceeded to defend his actions.

"One of them had a knife, the other had a sawn-off single shot .410 shotgun loaded with buckshot, which he discharged into my back, and the third had a .22 pistol. The police were amazed when they arrived on scene." He said. He smiled slightly, remembering the local chief of police who had visited him in the hospital and had brought him a bulletproof vest as a present, saying he was honored to meet the teenager. "My little brother and sister are in high school now, and I have a few scars to remember the occasion by."

"Wow." Jubilee said, shocked. Wesley gave her a look. She caught herself. "I mean, that's the last thing I thought you would say."

"That's why I don't hesitate, why I don't look back at deadly encounters and wish I had done something else." Wesley said, hoping Jubilee would understand. "It's a sad thing to have to kill someone." He looked at Jubilee. "You know what's worse?" She shook her head. "What's worse is when someone, the government, Spider-Man, anyone, purposefully avoids killing murders, kidnappers, rapists. Then, within a few years, some innocent person ends up paying with their lives so the 'good guys' could feel morally superior about how they didn't 'lower themselves' to the level of criminals." Wesley took a few breaths, and when he spoke again, the fury had left his voice. "Statistically, every single execution that occurs in the United States saves eighteen lives. **Eighteen lives**. Yet, in today's 'justice' system, its not uncommon to see someone serve seven to ten years for a murder. That's the price tag put on your life, and on mine."

Jubilee didn't quite know what to say to all that. She had asked what seemed to be a minor question, and ended up bringing up deep wounds and unshakeable convictions.

"If you have something to say, go ahead and say it." Wesley suddenly said to Kurt, who had shifted slightly in his seat, and had been listening. The German turned fully to look back at them, but hesitated, not speaking. "I may have just met you, but Jean and Storm trusted you enough to bring to along, and you're a fellow believer. I respect your opinion." Wesley said.

"It is not my place to judge you." Kurt said. "The vord sayeth, 'Judge not, lest ye be judged.' " He had, only that morning, tried to kill the President. Whether he had been under mind control or not did not change that fact.

"I'm not going to criticize you for that," Wesley said, guessing what blue teleporter had been thinking. Kurt gave his opinion.

"It's just zat you speak so strongly for justice and punishment," Kurt said. "Yes, justice is a righteous thing. But all evildoers will eventually meet eternal justice and damnation, whether we punish them or not. Here in this life, should we not show them some mercy, just as He first showed us mercy?"

The words were spoken softly and kindly, but they hit younger man like ice water. He tried to think up a witty answer, but all that came out was a quietly spoken concession, "I see your point." Kurt had unintentionally hit a truth about him that few had seen. Ten years earlier he had picked up that handgun, ready to start killing to save his brother and sister. A decade later, those intruders were long dead, but he had never put the gun back down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We are coming up on Lake Alkali," Storm reported. "I'm landing a little less than a half a mile away from where you claim the entrance is." Radar couldn't detect the jet, but a patrol on the ground might, if they landed too close. Small jets on the underbelly of the Blackbird fired, allowing the plane to land as smoothly as a helicopter.

"Better get suited up." Jean told Logan. He nodded, and headed to the rear of the jet, to the uniform lockers and the small restroom.

"When do we get our uniforms?" Rogue asked casually as he opened the storage unit. Gambit was probably in that base: she was perfectly willing to follow the X-Men in to find him.

"They're on order." Logan replied casually. "Should get here in four or five years." Jubilee pouted at hearing that.

"You two are NOT going in there." Jean told them. She looked over at Wesley, who was still in his seat, resting. "Hey, Judson, get ready," she said, referring to him by his last name. He wasn't an X-Men, but he was a professionally trained soldier, and if they were going to pull off raiding a military base, they would need all the help they could get.

"I sooo hate this part." Wesley groaned, getting up tiredly, then heaving his heavy bulletproof vest from the empty seat he had tossed it to. "This stuff is supposed to not happen on my month off. I work two relatively smooth months of contracting duty, and as soon as I get my month off, this garbage happens."

"You hate what, preparing for a fight?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't act like a coward."

"You can heal from a gunshot wound in three seconds and have huge, razor sharp retractable metal claws in your hands, and unbreakable bones. I have a semi-automatic handgun and a kevlar vest." Wesley said, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say I have a lot better reason to be afraid than you."

_How's your foresight? _Jean telepathtically asked him, reminded of it by him talking about Logan's mutant abilities. Wesley nearly had a heart attack, thinking she had said that out loud, then noticed no one else was reacting as they would if she had spoken it. Relief washed over him.

_That's how I survived the school raid, _He thought back in response, looking over at Jean. _It's getting clearer. _He wasn't a telepath, but telepaths could 'hear' thoughts that were aimed at them. It would have been uncomfortable for him to be around Jean or Charles, knowing they could read his mind, even though they would never pry without asking first, but exposure to Magneto's machine had given him physic immunity. His mind couldn't be read at all, and his thoughts couldn't be heard unless he wanted them to be. Saying his foresight was getting clearer was a drastic understatement, but he didn't have time to discuss it then.

_And you haven't told anyone yet, right? _Jean questioned, sounding concerned. _Not that you shouldn't, but I just don't want Magneto to get any ideas._ He assured her that he did not. Jean turned away and starting conferring with Storm suddenly. Magneto had noticed Wesley and Jean looking at each other, and very likely guessed what was taking place.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The spillway maintenance passage near the top of the dam is the most obvious entrance, but it would be a kill zone if a force attempted to attack from there." Magneto said. "They could flood it out, activated small explosive charges, or simply open the doors and gun down anyone. So, our scout will have to get to the control room on the third level and open all entrances."

"Right." Logan said, now wearing his black x-men uniform. "Got a map for me?" Wolverine asked. Stryker wouldn't be very surprised to see Logan return to the base, and would probably let him in, the group had agreed, after they had discussed what Stryker had said to Wolverine in the mansion. Magneto smirked at Logan's question.

"What are you going to do when you get there? Claw everything until the gates open?" Magneto asked, sounding as patronizing as usual.

"I'll take my chances." Logan snapped.

"You might, but I won't." Magneto told him. He looked at Mystique, and she took the cue. Her bizarre scale-like skin shifted, turning into an exact duplicate of Logan, wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt under a plaid shirt, and dog tags. Jubilee and Rogue were visibly grossed out at the brief transformation process. Logan shrugged. Magneto handed her a small head seat, identical to the ones Jean provided the other team members from a stash of equipment the jet had. Mystique would radio in if she succeeded in opening the doors. She would set off towards the spillway, and the others would head to another entrance.

"You look like him, but are you sure Stryker won't realize you're not the real deal?" Rogue asked.

"I've been doing this a long time." Mystique/Logan said. "I don't need infiltration advice from a kid." He/She nodded to Magneto, and turned to go. Wesley angled his shoulder and purposefully bumped into her as she exited the jet. If it irritated her, she didn't show it. Twenty seconds later Mystique was out of sight of the cockpit, vanished into the woods surrounding the lake.

"Stryker knew Logan well, it seemed." Wesley said matter-of-factly. "She won't fool him."

"She's fooled hundreds of people over the years, son." Magneto said, conveying his standard arrogance. "You guess wrong."

"I'm not your son," Wesley said evenly. "And it's not a guess."

"It's time for us to move out." Jean said, breaking into the conversation. "Jubilee, Rogue, you two, **stay in the jet.** " They nodded. "I've configured the computer to let you listen into whatever is said over the radio head sets. If anything happens, alert us over the radios immediatly."

"Anything like…?" Rogue asked.

"If enemy reinforcements arrive, tornadoes break out, bombs start falling, stuff like that." Logan said casually. "Anything interesting."

Once outside, the five headed off to their strike point.

"Half a mile through the woods." Wesley said, doing a stretch to lower the chance of tearing a muscle while jogging there. He looked at the skintight black leather outfits Ororo, Jean, and Logan were wearing. "You three should have fun." He took out his handgun, pulled the slide back, and released it, chambering a round so the gun was ready to use. His blue jeans, t-shirt, and kevlar vest wouldn't restrict movement half as much as their outfits.

"This isn't a race." Logan growled. "I'm taking point."

"Actually, that would be me." Magneto said. He raised a hand, and a small metal object lifted itself up out of the snow ahead. It flew towards them, then stopped and hovered a few feet away, close enough for everyone to clearly see what it was. "Unless, of course, you can sense the seven more bouncing betty landmines within the first hundred yards of our path." Bouncing betty landmines were small anti-personal mines that activated when someone stepped on them, then stepped off. A canister would shoot up out of the landmine, fly roughly six feet straight up into the air, and explode, sending shrapnel into anyone nearby.

"Lead the way, then." Jean said to Magneto. He did so.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mystique, using Logan's appearance, slowly walked down the dry spillway, carefully mimicking the uncertainty but slight familiarity the real Wolverine would have had. She stopped at the end, almost directly in front of the base door. "Stryker?" She bellowed, using Logan's voice. "Stryker!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gambit paused in the corridor, and held his stolen radio up to his ear. Something was happening. "All units, on alert. Fireteams Delta and Charlie, report to east spillway entrance. Over." They were bringing more soldiers to one entrance. Gambit looked around a few times. He had an idea where that entrance was, but it would take a while to get there. He got his bearings, and set off at a rapid pace, reasoning that it would only take around ten minutes to find out what was going on, and maybe it would help him figure out how to escape with some of the prisoners. He had located Scott in the base eariler, but that had been a dead end. He did not look in his right mind, trailing a few yards behind Stryker, next to the Chinese-looking woman, so Gambit didn't try to signal him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stryker watched from a dozen yards off as Wolverine walked forward, surrounded by four soldiers, weapons trained on him, while a fifth finished handcuffing him and then held a pistol to the back of the mutant's head.

Wolverine looked around several times. Stryker made eye contact with him, and waited for the questions, taunts, or curses that he knew were coming.

Wolverine didn't say anything.

Stryker didn't hesitate, question himself, or waste time. He could be called a failure because of the Weapon X program, or be called insane for his current mission, but the word stupid did not fit him at all.

Stryker turned to his subordinate and spoke quietly. "If there's one thing I know better than anyone else, it's my own work. Seal the room. Kill it." He turned to leave the area immediately after giving the order, anticipating possible casualties. The officer wasn't quite as smart as his Colonel was.

"Seal the room!" He repeated loudly. The thing that appeared to be Wolverine suddenly slipped out of its handcuffs, smoothly roundhouse kicking three of its guards away before leaping over the fourth to smash the fifth down, then used the fourth as a human shield to absorb the burst of handgun fire directed at her. She shoved the wounded soldier at them, and flung herself forward, sliding between two blast doors just before they sealed shut.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gambit was nearly to the east spillway entrance when the radio hummed to life again.

"Red alert, all units! We have a metamorph loose in the base! Battle stations, everyone!" It was Stryker himself sounding the alarm, and, from the sound of it, he was running somewhere. Gambit rounded the empty corridor, and paused. Four soldiers were bolting down it, in his direction. He took a risk, and continued forward. They neared, and he tried to weaken his accent before asking,

"What's going on, did you see what happened? What did it look like?" To Gambit's relief, they didn't slow down, instead just passing by.

"It appeared to be a blue skinned, red haired woman! Get to your squad!" One of the men yelled over his shoulder.

Gambit knew of one blue-skinned metamorph. Mystique. What he did not know was whether her arrival was a good thing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the way, I know Lady Deathstrike is Japanese, but the actress who portrays her in the movie is

Chinese-American. Kelly Hu, I believe.

Oh, and Freegirl, there's my explanation of why Wesley is a sincere Christian, yet he's more like Frank Castle then Peter Parker or most of the X-Men concerning willingness to kill.

Note: I called Wesley's body armor a bulletproof vest. To be correct, it's bullet resistant. No body armor is completely bulletproof at close range.

Folks, please, review the chapter. I put a lot of work into, be decent and leave a sentence on what you thought of it.

I am painfully aware that Wesley ate up most of this chapter, but this is chapter 24, and I feel it's high time I show a bit more about his past so his personality doesn't seem bizarre. I haven't explained most of the X-Men's pasts, because most of us already know them well.

Oh, and the .410 bore shotgun is considered to be a poor self-defense round by experts, and it only holds 3 or 5 buckshot balls in a shell, so it wouldn't be very extraordinary if a teenager survived being shot in the back with it. I got the idea of Wesley killing intruders when he was a young teenager from an incident I heard about of a 12 or 13 year old girl killing two burglars with her Dad's shotgun. (He had frequently taken her out shooting clays and such, so she knew how to use it.)


	25. Breaking and Entering

Here we are, chapter 25 of this story. I am sorry, folks, that I take so long to update. I want to get better at that.

Drumroll, please.

**Christy**; I'm very glad you like the story, and the Christian point of view Wesley has. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well as the last, thanks very much for reviewing.

**Freegirl**; Ah, faithful reviewers like thou, art surly blessings sent from heaven to writers. I'm sorry I left you hanging a month, it's been busy. Anyway… Magneto won't really react to Wesley's accurate prediction until next chapter, but it should be good. And yeah, Kurt and Wesley will be on good terms in this story, despite their differences. You're welcome for the update; reviews make it all well worth the time spent writing.

**Iloveromys**; I must admit, whenever I see your penname, I feel a twinge of guilt that Rogue and Gambit's romance doesn't get more screen time, so I am especially pleased and relieved that you like the story. I appreciate you complimenting Wesley's character, the fact that he's a Christian. I also think it helps make him a more realistic character. And while I wouldn't hesitate to bash some doctrines that the church teaches, (Eh, I already did that in the chapter) Christianity itself holds a very dear place in my heart. Thanks for the review, my friend.

Anyway, a little chat before the chapter begins. Maybe I should just get a livejournal account, eh?

On the 31st of July I had some dental surgery, wisdom teeth being removed. I currently (as I type this section, it's the second of August) feel fine, though, thanks to 600mg doses of painkillers. It was an awful thing to have to look forward to. Fast forward to a few minutes before the operation-I'm in the chair, the surgeon's assistants were placing sensors on my chest to track my vital signs and such. They've already put the laughing gas mask on my face, the smell of which makes me feel like puking, one assistant is tying a band around my upper arm to make is easy to put the IV in (The IV contained the almost-general anesthetics,) and I started breathing slightly faster, anticipating the pain to come. One of the assistants heard my heartbeat speed up via the more rapid beeping on the monitors, or just noticed my increased breathing, and offered me a bit of comfort.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling. "It'll be fun."

All I heard was the Joker from The Dark Knight asking, "**Why so serious**?"

On a positive note… did you all see Kung Fu Panda? It's great! Tigress is awesome, definitely the best character in the film, and the most impressive fighter. Go to youtube and search 'Kung Fu Panda Last of the Wilds' it's this awesome music video someone made about the movie.

I did see the The Dark Knight, and Iron Man, and well as Kung Fu Panda. Iron Man was good, a really neat Sci-fi action movie. The Dark Knight was very dark and grimy, and did not end on a high note at all. Kung Fu Panda  is overall pretty funny, with a few very childish parts, and a few really neat fight scenes. Yes, I do see a lot of movies.

Oh, and the 22nd of August was my birthday. I'm now seventeen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mystique, now identical to Colonel Stryker, ran into the control room. "Lock down all passageways and secure the hanger! We'll have to search every square foot of this base, located and verify the identify of each person and secure every area, one square foot at a time!" He barked at the officer at the desk. The show of confidence fooled the man, who turned his back. Mystique smoothly reached out, picked a handgun up off a computer, and smashed it against the soldier's head, knocking him out. She would have simply shot him, but in that small room, the report would have deafened her.

She shoved the operator out of the seat, and sat down. Six seconds later the control room doors were locking down. Ten seconds after that the west blast doors were opening. She pressed down the button on the radio headset she had been given.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A dozen yards from one of the base entrances …

"I'm in." Mystiques voice said clearly over the headsets each person was wearing.

"Excellent, my dear." Magneto said. He continued, "Did everything go smoothly?"

"Not quite as much as I hoped." Mystique said. "I got into the base, but then Stryker apparently realized I wasn't the real deal and tried to kill me. I'm in the control room now, your entry point is opening. Beware of light resistance. Mystique out." Magneto looked over at Wesley, an eyebrow raised questioningly. The younger man just looked smug. BAMF**! **Kurt suddenly teleported next to them. "The woods are clear. Ze have no pickets or scouts roaming around; ze must feel very safe."

"No surprise." Storm said. "They're well hidden, safely inside the United States. "

"Enough chatting. You heard what Mystique said!" Wolverine growled. _Sniik!_ His claws came out. "Let's move!"

"Remember the plan, Logan." Magneto said calmly. Wolverine rolled his eyes and took up his position next to Magneto, on his left, three feet from him. Wesley stood three feet to Magneto's right. Jean stepped behind Logan, and Storm behind Wesley. Kurt stood off and watched; he'd be teleporting around side the base, not walking in. The Magneto smiled, enjoying the fact he was commanding the X-Men, if only two of them, and only temporarily. "Oh, yes. You will all need these." He held a small bag up and handed it to Logan. "Take two and pass it around." It was a bag of earplugs. Half a minute later, each of the five were wearing them. Nightcrawler said he would be fine without them.

"Now we have to trust **you **to keep us alive." Logan grumbled. "I'd rather take my chances."

"Of course you would." Magneto said mockingly. "But for now, I am in charge."

They walked forward to the entrance, to the wide open doors. Bursts of gunfire fire broke out from several soldiers crouched at corners and behind small vehicles, making the four involuntarily cringe and look away, blinded by the flashes and deafened by the reports of the guns. The bullets did nothing, though; Magneto had his hand raised, creating a magnetic shield in front of them; the rounds simply stopped in midair and fell down. BAMF**! **Kurt teleported next to the rearmost soldier, kicking the man in the head, sending him into the wall, knocking him out. The man hadn't hit the ground yet when Kurt suddenly BAMFED**! **over two soldiers and grabbed both of their shoulders. BAMF**! **All three of them vanished. Magneto used the metal the last soldier was wearing to pick him up and hurl him into a wall with bone-crushing force. BAMF**! **Kurt reappeared, alone. The hallway was cleared of enemy forces-the group could move on.

"Where'd you put them?" Logan asked the teleporter. The blue mutant laughed as he gave his explanation.

"Ze looked a little overveight, so I decided zey needed a hike; they're two miles away in the woods, on the opposite side of the base away from ze jet." That was fine with Logan.

"Which way?" Jean asked; Erik seemed uncertain. Wesley seized the opportunity to pick up a dropped gun, a pump action Remington 870 shotgun. He checked the rounds; it was loaded with 00 buckshot, so shooting someone with one shell would be the equivalent of shooting them six times with a .38 special revolver.

Magneto depressed the small button on his headset and consulted Mystique for directions. "Which way?"

"Fifty yards straight, then go right, twenty yards, take a left." She said. "I'm busy here, have to go." Stryker's forces were working hard at breaking back into the control room.

They set off, formation broken. Logan hugging the right wall, claws out, Wesley staying close to the left, stolen shotgun at ready.

"Clear those corners!" Wesley said. That meant he wanted Logan to check the corners as they neared them and declare it clear or announce any enemy contacts.

"Shut up, kid, I know what I'm doing," Logan said snapped, not liking taking commands from someone who was at most half his age and a fraction as experienced in combat. They hurried on, quietly and quickly, the noise of their footsteps hidden by the hum of the ventilation systems.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The base was on full alert, and walking around openly could get him shot, so he was careful to stay out of sight. From what Remy could tell, nearly all of the base's forces were being drawn to one point; the single tunnel leading to a restricted area that he hadn't explored. His stolen radio squawked to life, making him freeze to try to hear it; "Intruders, lower west entrance! Need backup, Alpha level threats!"

Remy promptly turned and headed towards the lower west entrance as fast as he could.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stryker gave his last commands to his son Jason, and turned, and left, giving a mock salute to Charles Xavier, who was in the middle of whatever fantastic hallucination Jason was giving him. He tapped a command into a small computer just outside the door, and the massive blast doors locked shut securely. This was the sole doorway in the entire base that could not be remotely opened from the control room, due to a little wise forethought.

"Summers, melt the console." Stryker ordered the mutant. The bodyguard obediently turned and blasted the panel, wrecking it. Without hours of skilled electrical work, or a huge amount of explosives and equipment, no one would be able to get into that room. Within twenty minutes, every single mutant on planet earth would be dead, thanks to the unwilling Xavier's abilities. He glanced at his watch. He didn't have much time before the serums he had injected into his two mutants bodyguards wore off. No matter, they wouldn't be around much longer anyway.

"Kill anyone who approaches." Stryker ordered his men, who had taken up positions behind outcroppings in the tunnel walls, some holding ballistic shields. "Even if it's me." Hopefully his men could delay the intruders long enough to prevent anything from stopping the plan. Most likely, the intruders would kill them all. He shrugged. Several dozen men was a small price to pay to eradicate mutantkind.

He set off at a quick jog, and came to a junction in the tunnels, near the motor pool. If his estimates were right, the intruders would cross that path within three or four minutes.

Stryker turned to the mind-controlled Scott Summers, who was ironically a good friend of Xavier.

"At all costs, do not let anyone pass by." The mutant nodded silently and stood halfway down the tunnel, staring towards the junction. His optic blasts would be extremely effective, making it a turkey shoot, Stryker hoped.

"Let's go." The officer said to his other bodyguard, Yuriko. The control room had been sealed by that shape-shifting mutant, and the hanger doors couldn't be opened manually. He would have to get the one chopper outside the base. If he stuck to service tunnels and took the side routes, he could probably skirt the intruders and escape through the smelting room's exit. Stryker set off, making a small detour to a weapons room, and ordered his guard to wait outside. Inside was several hundred pounds of RQX-71 high explosive; one pound of it could level a ten-story tall office building. He set the timer and carefully double-checked his work before exiting the small armory.

Xavier should have just enough time to finish wiping out the mutant race before the base blew sky high. Stryker would blame it on the invading mutants, and all evidence of his actions would be thoroughly destroyed in the blast. His men were a necessary sacrifice at the moment, and a very real security threat later if any of them survived battling the intruders.

If people found out that the government was behind all mutants suddenly dying, they would have serious problems. Externally, some mutants held high-ranking positions in foreign governments such as Briton, Russia, and Australia, along with several others, and their deaths would be looked at as assassinations, acts of war. Internally, massive riots would occur in most major cities, and assassination of government officials would become a daily occurrence. That was the best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario? The United States would shatter into a civil war. Most people didn't like mutants very much, but only a tiny, miniscule percentage would be happy to have them all killed, and large amount of the populace would realize that if the government would destroy all mutants, there would be no telling what other groups might be next on the list.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gambit ran lightly through the tunnels, making his way rapidly to the lower west entrance, stopping only to read the small direction signs on the walls and verify he was going the right way. Thankfully, the tunnels were mostly empty now, and stealth wasn't required as much. He rounded a corner-

-and nearly had a heart attack. One lone figure was standing in the middle of the dim

passageway, just standing there, motionless. Gambit froze, gripping a throwing card in his right hand. After a few more moments, he realized the man was looking the other way, and had not seen him. He took a few more cautious steps closer, moving silently. His eyes adjusted to the light, and he could see detail.

It was Scott Summers, standing stone still, just staring towards the end off the hallway. Gambit was perplexed. Last he had seen Summers, he was following Colonel Stryker, next to his other bodyguard. Now Stryker was nowhere to be seen, and Scott was just standing there.

**BLAMBLAMBLAM!** Gambit winced as the gunfire echoed loudly down the tunnels, assault rifle fire by the sound of it. Scott was unmoved as Gambit covered his ears. Ka-Chink-**BOOM! **A shotgun, no doubt there. Apparently, a few soldiers were still trying to slow the intruders down. Gambit was unsure of what to do. It looked like Stryker had left Summers behind to defend the restricted area.

"Clear!" He heard someone say. Was that Wesley?

"We can see that." Another voice growled. Gambit was certain that was 'de Wolverine. _How'd the X-Men find this place? _And where they working with Mystique?

"Better to be safe than sorry," A third voice said. _Magneto?!_

Footsteps came closer, and the talking continued, but Gambit wasn't paying close attention. Scott had raised his hand to his visor, ready to blast the group as soon as they were in sight.

Gambit hesitated. Scott was probably under some sort of drug influence, but odds were that he was still very capable of fighting.

The group sounded like it was just out of sight. Gabmit groaned, and threw caution into the wind. He simply walked forward several paces and smashed his elbow against the side of Scott's head. The teacher just collasped, knocked unconscious. Gambit decided to join him; when the group rounded the corner a moment later, they saw two bodies on the ground, a few feet apart. It was an old trick Gambit had learned once; in a gunfight, look dead and you might not be shot at, more commonly called 'playing possum'. Chances were the X-Men wouldn't accidentally kill him, but plenty of friendly-fire incidents had been in unlikely situations.

"What happened?" Gambit heard Wesley asked, perplexed. "We haven't been down this way yet! Who killed them?"

"Maybe the good Colonel lost his temper with a few subordinates." That was Storm speaking.

"Let's move on." A German voice asked. Remy had no clue as to who that was.

"Wait, I need some ammo," Wesley said. "Unlike you guys, I require more than sheer willpower to fight. Cover me."

"Like you really needed to say that?" Wolverine asked sarcastically. "Do we look like a military squad to you?" Wesley didn't say anything, and Remy could hear him walk closer.

"What-? Scott!? Remy!?" He recognized them. Gambit made a fist with his left hand, letting him know he was alive without startling him. More footsteps clattered down the tunnel, and Gambit opened his eyes and sat up.

"You're alright?" Wesley asked, shocked.

"Sure am, _mon ami_," Gambit said, accepting Wesley's offered hand and pulling himself up. "I just wanted to make sure you guys didn't 'stake me for a bad guy."

"Scott!" Jean said, examining her husband for injuries.

"Your _chere mari_ is in one piece," Gambit said. "I just knocked him out. I think Stryker had him pumped full o' drugs."

BAMF! A blue demon suddenly appeared next to Gambit."Who is zis?" He asked. Gambit jumped from the surprise, leaping back and reaching for a throwing knife in his boot.

"Gambit! Relax, Kurt's a friend." Jean said.

"My apologies for startling you." Kurt said politely.

"Don't sweat it." Gambit said, embarrassed at having been frightened. "Why the blazes are the X-Men working with Magneto?"

"Desperate time, desperate measures, my lad." Magneto told him.

"So, what's going on?" Remy questioned.

"Long story short," Logan growled, "some colonel in the army wants to wipe out all mutants, so he built a cerebro and kidnapped the Professor, who it turns out, is powerful enough to kill millions of people telepathically when using cerebro."

"Ookay." Gambit said slowly. Wesley tossed him his headset.

"Why don't you let Marie know you're fine?" Wesley suggested.

"How is my _amie l'un_?" Gambit asked, smiling.

"She's okay, her and Jubes are waiting in the blackbird a short walk away from the base. Can we cut the yapping and move on?" Logan asked, frustrated.

"Are the children here?" Storm asked quickly. "The troops that invaded the mansion took several students prisoner."

"Yeah, the Colonel has some kiddies locked up," Gambit said, "and I couldn't figure out how to break them free. But now that y'all are here-" He charged a card, and let the glow illuminate his face. "let's get this party started!"

"Sure thing. First, which of you three are carrying Scott?" Jean asked. "If we take him back to the jet, we'd have to send an escort with whoever was carrying him. That's at least two fighters down. We bring him with, only one man is unable to assist in combat."

Logan and Gambit glanced at each other, then simultaneously looked at the youngest of them; Wesley. He rolled his eyes, but turned the shotgun's safety on, slung it across his back, and heaved Scott up, lifting him properly, spreading the weight across both shoulders. Gambit was letting a much relieved Marie know he was still alive, and Logan was stamping his foot with impatience.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On the jet…

"Hello? Is this on?" A familiar French-accented voice said over the radio. Rogue nearly fell out of her seat, resulting in Jubilee bursting out laughing.

"Yeah, Remy, is that you?" Marie asked, leaning close to the microphone.

"It's me, Rogue. Just want to let you know I'm fine. Were nearly done here, I should be seeing you in fifteen minutes, tops." Gambit said, reassuring his girlfriend.

"Sorry to interrupt this tender moment," Mystique broke in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But things have changed. All the troops are being positioned outside dark cerebro. It's clear around the control room; meet me there."

Rogue mimed pounding Mystique's face into the ground, much to Jubilee's amusement.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the control room…

"Good, you're finally here." Mystique said, standing in from of the bank of surveillance camera feeds.

"Nice to see you to." Logan snapped. Mystique snickered.

"The target is just down that hallway." Mystique said, pointing. "A hundred yards at most. But every soldier left in this tiny base is sitting in that hallway waiting for something to shoot."

"We have to get the children as well." Storm pointed out.

"I know where 'de children are," Gambit said. "Let's split up; half of us rescue the dear Professor, 'de other half get the children. Den we go home."

"Storm, you, Kurt, Gambit, and Wesley, go get the children. Logan and I will go with Mystique and Mangeto, and dismantle Stryker's cerbro." Jean said. "That alright with you, Logan?" She turned around. Logan was gone, along with Wesley. Scott was propped up in an empty chair.

"What?" Storm said, surprised. Neither had been seen leaving. "Where'd those two go?"

"After Stryker." Jean said softly. One target, two reasons. Answers, and vengeance. Jean turned to Scott, and placed her hands next to his head, and focused, telepathically contacting her husband's unconscious mind. "The drugs have worn off him." Jean said.

"That's good. He could be a nice help." Storm said. Jean shook Scott, trying to wake him up. No luck. She tried again. Nothing.

"Need help, _chere_?" Remy asked, grinning. "Gambit's really good at waking people up." Jean rolled her eyes.

"Wake him up, then, Mr. Expert." Jean said. Gambit gave a bow, and knelt before Scott, and started rapidly unlacing the man's boot.

"What're you going to do, tickle his feet?" Mystique asked sarcastically. Gambit raised an eyebrow, finishing by removing Scott's sock.

"You mean you never learned 'dis technique?" He asked. He removed a small matchbook from a pocket and lit one. "Don't worry, it's easy to memorize."

"Wait," Jean said. "You didn't say you were going to-" Gambit pressed the lit match to the sole of Scott's foot, held it there for a moment, then blew it out. The horrid aroma of burnt flesh filled the air, and Scott mumbled a few times, starting to regain consciousness. The technique could wake drunkards, the ill, and even people who had been tortured so much the agony had knocked them out, while the pain of the minor burn kept them awake and focussed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While the others were discussing what to do, Logan was looking at the bank of surveillance camera feeds, displaying everything the cameras around the base saw. Stryker and his female bodyguard strode down a tunnel, plain in sight of the camera. Logan quickly read the label under the screen, and consulted a map on the wall of the control room. The others could go rescue Charles; Logan had some personal business to attend to. He quietly turned and left out of the room, walking casually, claws retracted. As he rounded the corner, he heard soft footsteps behind him. It was Wesley. Logan turned and acknowledged him, letting the younger man know he was aware of his presence, feeling a stab of disappointment as he did so.

He wanted to deal with Stryker alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The chapter was going to be a bit longer (it got to seven pages on my processor, without my commentaries at the end and beginning) then I realized that I seriously needed to just get out the next chapter, not make you folks wait forever for a ten page chapter. Oh, and the next chapter, chapter 26, should be out within two weeks; I already have about half of it written.

French translations, what those phrases Gambit spoke mean in English.

_Mon ami_- my friend

_Chere mari_- dear husband

_Amie l'un_- loved one

If that's not correct translations, well... pardon my French!

I really hope you all enjoyed reading the chapter; please leave a review – they really mean a lot to me. Getting no reviews on a chapter is like being snubbed by a good friend. Getting one review is nice. Getting two is encouraging, cheering, and tells me people enjoy my writing. Getting three is awesome and makes my day great!


	26. Settling Scores

**September 11, 2001. Never forget. Never forgive!**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Here's chapter 26. Hope y'all like it. And, in this chapter, there is temporarily a time at the top of each small section, telling you when the section is happening, exactly, since some things are happening simultaneously. It's only for this chapter (it was agony to have to timeline everything properly), and only so everyone can keep straight when each event is happening in relation to each other.

Drum roll for reviewers…

**terracannon876; **Thanks, I had a pretty good birthday. I'm glad the story makes sense even if you had not seen the movies. (I forgot that a fair amount of readers might have not seen X-Men and X-2.) Thanks for reviewing.

**iloveromys:** Hey, good to see ya again; and thanks for the birthday wishes. I try to put as much realism and nifty real facts in the story as possible; Jean had to smash Scott against a wall to wake him up, I figured shaking Scotty probably wouldn't do anything. Thanks for the review.

**freegirl; **I am embarrassed to admit that 'Grim Reminder' **is** where I got the idea for Kurt teleporting those soldiers out into the woods. That, and Kurt is a non-violent guy; I don't think he would kill anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. I'm happy to know the humor is turning out well. And, man, did the Joker turn out scary. He wasn't a clown with occasionally murderous tricks like the cartoons portrayed, he was a dangerous lunatic.

Soon you readers will have to make a choice for Wesley, which will greatly alter his future one way or the other, as well as the story plot. I've been following the movie's plots so far, but that is about to change after the next chapter.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:36-4:40 pm, Eastern Standard Time

Logan hurried down the corridor, heading to cutoff Colonel Stryker's escape. The tunnels seemed familiar, like relieving a dream – no, more like a nightmare. With Wesley a half-dozen paces behind him, he went up a flight of stairs, made a few turns, went twenty yards down a long tunnel, cut through a thick door, and-

There it was. At the end of the hallway was a closed set of double doors, the doors to his personal hell. He shuddered, taking a few steps back, a wave of fear sweeping over him. The security contractor caught up to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, holding his shotgun at ready, pointed towards the doors. Logan would never admit it, but having the younger man there with him was a comfort. _This time, I am not helpless. This time, things are different,_ Logan assured himself. He glanced at Wesley, then nodded. He advanced, Wesley at his side. They reached the end of the hallway, but the doors were locked. Wesley silently gestured towards with the shotgun, asking the Canadian if he wanted him to try to blast the doors open. Logan shook his head no, then popped a claw, and quietly sliced the bolts off both doors, being careful not to let them drift open. Simultaneously, they threw the doors open and entered the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:37-4:39

"Jean?" Scott asked, "Is it really you… or is this just another dream?" The words made Jean tear up; what mental torture had Scott been suffering under the drugs that Stryker had injected him with?

"It's me, Scott." Jean said, embracing her husband. "We're all here, to get you, the Professor, and those students back."

"Hello." Kurt said.

"Good to have you back, Scott." Storm said warmly.

"How you doing, _mon ami?_" Gambit asked. Scott noticed Magneto.

"What is he doing here?" He shakily demanded to know.

"They're working with us. We even have a teleporter here with us, Kurt Wagner." Jean said. "A officer named Colonel Stryker had you and the Professor kidnapped, and raided the mansion to steal parts to cerebro, to finish his own cerebro."

"Why?" Scott asked groggily.

"Stryker wishes to use Charles to eradicate all mutants from the earth," Magneto said. "And he tortured me until he found out Charles could make it happen with cerebro. With his drugs, such as the ones he used on you, and the powerful illusions his son Jason can cast, he can make Charles do his bidding."

"We need to move on, now." Mystique said impatiently.

Scott tested his feet. "I can walk." He cringed; one foot felt burned; it was extremely painful, but he would have to keep going.

"Good." Jean said. "Storm, take Kurt and Gambit, and go rescue the students. Scott and I will go with Magneto and Mystique to get the Professor. Then we can take complete control of the base. Let's move out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:41-4:48

"You sure you know your way around here?" Storm asked, leaning against the wall, resting for a moment. Gambit hesitated for a moment.

"Joure." He said, his French accent getting thicker as he concentrated, turning around a few times to verify his surroundings. Storm hoped that that meant yes. "Lemme check something." He ran down the tunnel, then back up, trying to remember exactly where the kids were being held.

"Are ve lost?" Kurt asked.

"No." Gambit insisted. "I know exactly where we are."

"Good." Storm said. "Do you know exactly where the students are, too?"

"Just follow Gambit, he'll getcha dere." The Cajun said, leading the way. Several minutes of running around later, they were there. Storm tried the door.

"Locked." She said frustratedly. Gambit stepped up to it. "What, are you going to pick the lock or something?" She asked.

Gambit took a small rock out of his pocket. It started glowing bright orange, and he quickly placed it on the handle, next to the locking mechanism.

"Oh," Storm said, backing off, and turning away, to avoid any flying debris.

**BOOM! **The rock exploded, and the door swung open. The trio walked it. There was a enormous steel door, with a electronic locking system, and a large viewing window into the cell, which held the six kidnapped students from the school.

"The door system is rigged up so if it shorts out, the door is locked shut." Remy said, as Storm examined the room. "The window is ballistic plastic, six inches thick." The students heard him speaking, but the glass was tinted so they couldn't see out if the lights were on in the area outside the holding cell.

"Is that you, Gambit?" One of the students shouted, pressing his face to the plastic, trying to peer out.

"Yep, it's da rajin cajun." Gambit said. "And your teacher, Ms. Ororo!"

"It's bloody good to hear from you, mate!" A British student hollered. Desperation was evident in his voice, as well as the others.

"Kurt." Storm said pointedly, nodding towards the trapped students.

"Ja." He said. BAMF! He teleported into the cell. The students back off, taking in his demonic appearance. "I may look scary, but I am your only escape. Everyone, vorm a circle, holding hands." The complied. BAMF! They all vanished and reappeared, still in a circle. Some of them were crying with the relief of being freed and seeing Ororo.

"Don't worry kids, everything is going to be fine." Storm said.

"Are you just saying that?" A girl asked tearfully, wiping her face.

"I mean it with all my heart." Storm said firmly. "We're getting out of here. Let's go. Gambit, lead the way."

"Where to now?" Gambit asked hopefully. "Perhaps we best wait for da others on the luxury jet?"

"No. We meet up with them outside the cerebro room." Storm said. "Let's go." One was having trouble walking, so Gambit picked him up. Ororo smiled; the Cajun had a heart.

"What's zat?" Kurt asked. A high pitched ringing could be heard faintly, growing in intensity.

"No idea wh-" Gambit fell to his knees, swearing furiously, his head feeling like it would explode. Storm clutched her hands to her ears, trying to block out the agony. The children were screaming…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:40-4:46

The room was large, dark, empty, and seemed unused. On one wall was an illuminating bank of x-rays, medical notes, and diagrams, providing most of the light in the room, except for a few odd bulbs hanging down from the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a vat of bubbling gray liquid, right next to an operating table, above a pool of water. Logan slowly stepped up to the rim of the pool. Three slices marred one of the concrete sides. He traced it with his hands, wondering... yes, it had been his claws.

_Logan reared up out of the water, furious, the agonizing pain burning him up. There was a group of people there… the people that had done this to him! Two ran forward and tried to restrain him, calm him. Sniik! His claws came out, and the two men dropped to the floor, red seeping out from gouges on their chests. The other people ran. Logan looked closer at his hands, at the huge claws protruding from them and cried out in despair. They had turned him into a monster! He had to escape! He got out of the water, and fled, stumbling up the stairs. There was a door! He opened it, and ran into the bright sunlight, towards the woods, sanctuary._

This was the place. The place where he ceased to remember, where he had gotten his claws. He looked at the various tubes and needles near the bubbling liquid, the-

"The thing about adamantium, is if you ever managed to process it from its raw form, you have to keep it molten hot." Logan turned. There was Stryker and his silent bodyguard, heading to an exit, the same exit Logan had used fifteen years earlier. "Because if it ever cools," Stryker continued, "it's indestructible. But you know that already, don't you?" Logan was briefly at a loss for words.

Wesley stepped out of the shadows near the illuminator, and picked a x-ray up, one showing metal claw-like structures instead of fingers on a hand. He had been well hidden from Stryker; the glare of the lights in the dark room made the shadows next to it impossible to see into.

"Where's the third?" He asked. "These aren't Wolverine's x-rays. They're hers, right?" He gestured to Stryker's bodyguard. She didn't look that intimidating, a beautiful woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, and seemingly unarmed. "Wolverine's the first, she's the second, where's the third?"

"They're isn't a third," Stryker said conversationally. "I couldn't find a third mutant with a healing factor powerful enough to survive the process."

"Someone did." Wesley said. The Punisher wouldn't lie to him. The third had two claws in each hand; Logan had three, and the x-rays showed Stryker's bodyguard to have five. The colonel shrugged, and made a mental note to look into that later.

"Stay out of this, Wesley." Logan warned. This was his private conflict, and he didn't want some kid getting in the way.

"I used to think you were unique, Wolverine." Stryker said. "I once thought each of one you freaks I came across was unique." He shrugged. "I was wrong." He jogged up the stairs, and vanished from sight, leaving his bodyguard to cover his escape.

Logan didn't hesitate; he simply ran forward after him, ignoring the woman, and Wesley's shouted warning. The woman spun around, landing two blows on him, and literally sent him flying.

Wesley just stood there, staring. Logan managed to regain his feet, four yards from where he had been standing. _Sniik!_ Out came his claws; he crouched and snarled, trying to intimidate the woman. She raised her hands. Her fingers extended through the fingertips, not bone, a familiar silver-gray color. Adamantium. She had adamantium 'skewers' instead of fingers.

The two men were speechless. The woman took a few steps forward, then simply charged. Logan swung forward with his right, about to take her head off, and the woman ducked easily, grabbed his arm, swung herself around and stabbed him several times in the back with her ten adamantium fingers. She was incredibly fast and agile, and Wolverine barely managed to break away from the grappling.

"Junior!" He shouted to Wesley, who was wisely staying a safe distance away, "I'll handle her, don't let Stryker get away! Go! Now!" Wesley acknowledged, and bolted towards the stairs Stryker had taken. The woman moved to intercept him, but Wolverine snarled and tackled her, buying his ally a few seconds.

Wesley seized the moment and charged up the stairs, going after Stryker. A door slammed shut loudly, and Wolverine was alone with his clawed opponent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:40-4:4:49

Magneto, Mystique, Jean and Scott headed down the corridor, towards the 'dark cerebro' room. Magneto suddenly held up one hand, signaling them to freeze where they were.

The soldiers were crouched along the outcroppings in the tunnel, weapons aimed at the end. Several of them had bulletproof shields that would protect them from high-powered rifle fire. A slight hum filled the air, and the pins sprang out of the hand grenades that were firmly attached to the front of each man's vest. Several of the troops managed to keep the grenade's safety levers from flying off, but only a few. One blew up, and the rest quickly followed suit. Within five seconds every single soldier was dead.

Just around the corner, Magneto opened his palm, dropping a handful of grenade pins. Mystique at his side, they walked confidently down the corridor, past several dozen dead bodies, some gruesomely blown apart. They paused before the heavy blast doors.

"Oh no." Jean said, as Magneto paused, and put his helmet on.

"What is it?" Scott asked, alarmed.

"It's starting! Now!" Jean cried. A high pitched ringing filled her ears, as pain flooded her body. Magneto put forth his hands and brought his power to bear on the door, as his three companions collapsed.

"Erik, hurry!" Mystique screamed, her body shaping reforming as different people, all of them in agony.

Magneto pulled harder on the huge doors, and finally made them slam open. He walked forward with a regal air. Stryker's son Jason was staring up at him, sitting in a wheelchair with various tubes hooked into him, keeping him pumped full of drugs. Magneto tapped his helmet, smirked, and shook his head, gloating how his helmet defeated yet another mentally powered mutant. Magneto walked forward and removed a plug from the cerebro, turning it off with one motion. Charles wasn't aware of his presence, still trapped in whatever illusion Jason was giving him, but he had been stopped, and mutantkind saved. Jean and Scott came running forward.

"Professor!" Scott said. "We're here, it's okay now." Magneto stepped back, letting them pass him, then raised his hand. Two chunks of debris the size of tennis balls flew down the passageway, into the room, and collided with the heads of the X-Men, who sank to the ground, knocked out. Mystique grabbed their legs and dragged them out of the room, then came back in, disguised as Colonel Stryker. He crouched next to Jason, and whispered into his ear.

"There's been a change of plans. Tell Xavier to kill all the humans, not the mutants." Mystique said. She stepped back and melted back into her normal shape, smirking. Magneto nodded, and re-activated the cerebro. He raised his hands, focusing on the walls of the chamber. It had been made specifically so Xavier could only effect mutants using it; Magneto reversed that, re-patterning the metal panels on the walls. Done with that, he addressed Charles, for the last time in the human-dominated world. If he ever saw the Professor again, it would be a mutant's planet.

"How do things look from there, my old friend? Still fighting the good fight, I see." Magneto said cruelly. "Let's try playing by their rules, and see how they like it." Within a few minutes, Xavier would wipe out the entire human race. The two left, Magneto sealing the doors behind them. Escape was already planned; they had circled the base before landing, and one chopper was on the helipad. They would take that, and by the time they landed, the earth would be purged of the outdated _homo sapien_.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:46-4:51

Logan had previously had what some would call an ego, due largely to the fact that he had never, ever, in his entire memory, lost a cage fight.

Now a woman was ripping him to shreds and throwing him around a room with ease. He was glad Wesley hadn't seen this; if the kid had told Scott, Logan would never hear the end of it. The woman got close again, evaded his claws, and kicked his leg out from under him, and stabbed him several times as he lay on the ground. He grabbed her hands, yanked her towards him, twisted his torso, and kicked her in the face, making her take a few steps back. He had smashed her nose, which was a good striking spot in a fight; there was a pressure point on it, which would cause disorientation if struck with force. She simply charged again, and Logan rammed one set of claws into her stomach, roaring angrily as he did. On second thought, he slammed the rest of his claws into her chest, and twisted them slightly. This fight was over; she was dead. She made a choked, gargling sound, looking down at his hands, then looked up, her now-loose hair falling back as the light came down on her face from a swinging overhead light…

Logan felt like killing himself. He _recognized _her, he knew her! He had no idea _where_ she was from or _when_ she was from, or _who_ she was, but he knew her! _Snik!_ He retracted his claws, the metal vanishing back into his hands.

"Yuriko?" He whispered, the name coming from nowhere.

She didn't say anything, she didn't even move for a moment. Her nose healed before his eyes, reforming perfectly. It dawned on him that the stab wounds he had given her probably healed as well…. Yuriko grabbed his hands, put on foot on his upper leg, repeated with the other, placed both feet on his collar bones while keeping herself up by gripping his hands, and spun herself around, sending Logan smashing face-first into a concrete block that was part of the cooling tub. That would have killed a normal man, snapped his jaw or simply fractured his skull and sent bone fragments into his brain, but it merely gouged the flesh off Logan's chin and up the side of his face. He winced in pain, as the wound healed, quickly covering the gray metal that had been exposed. The air whispered around him; Logan shoved himself off the cooling tub, just as claws came down, slicing into the concrete where his head had been.

"Yuriko, stop!" He shouted, holding his hands up defensively, claws retracted. "I remember!" Maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed to pause for a moment, hesitate, and her face twisted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but literally couldn't. Her face went blank, expressionless, again, and she rushed him-

and they both collapsed, a pitched-ringing filling their heads, activating all their pain receptors at once, making them loose control of their limbs and fall. Logan clutched his hands to his ears, as if he could block out the agony. His his vision blurred, feeling the absolute worst pain he had ever felt…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

4:47-4:54

Stryker turned the key in the door, locking it behind him. That made two locked doors between himself and Wolverine. The helipad was fifty yards away from the main base, out in the open to give choppers enough clearance to land or take off. It was also kept clear of snow, so it was visible from the air, thanks to the dark concrete that composed it. On the edge of the helipad was a small entrance into the base, basically a stairway that went down two around a hundred feet. It looked like a tall, black concrete right triangle with a door as the highest point, sloping down at an angle until it joined the ground. Stryker panted, the cold air making his lips grow numb.

**BOOM! **Stryker turned, looking back at the door. The helicopter was literally only a few steps away, an older UH-1 'Huey' Iroquois, a classic from Vietnam, one that Stryker fully intended to fly out of there before the blasé exploded.

**BOOM!** The door swung open, and Stryker saw Wolverine's friend 'Wesley', shotgun in hand, stride out. The man was wearing black, and was easy to spot against the white snow. Stryker reached under his coat, and withdrew his personal sidearm, a genuine Colt 1911, chambered in .45 acp, almost identical to what he had been issued in Vietnam. All he had to do was outsmart the idiot rookie who was after him, then he'd be on his way, with plenty of time to get to a safe distance before the entire base exploded. If he tried to take off before he killed Wolverine's friend, he would rush the chopper and shoot him dead before he could get the helicopter in the air.

Wesley slung the empty shotgun onto his back and took out his 9mm, made sure a round was chambered, the safety off, and started following the tracks in the snow; there was only one set of tracks, leading away from the door, towards a helipad a ways off. In this case, his training worked against him; he knew precisely how dangerous solo pursuit of a hiding target was. The guy could ambush him easily. But, this situation didn't allow him time to wait. If Stryker wanted to, he could ditch the chopper and hike to civilization, or simply be calling for reinforcements via a satellite phone.

Wesley walked forward, pistol up and just below eye level, surveying the woods as he walked the long, open distance to the helipad.

Stryker checked his watch. Time was growing short; soon the base would be annihilated and he was still there. He was standing next to the stairway into the base, his dark coat helping him blend with the wall at his back.

Wolverine's young friend was up on the helipad, a few feet away from the chopper, a dozen yards from Stryker. He raised his pistol, aiming for the kid's head – the pistol's .45 caliber rounds wouldn't penetrate the body armor the youth was openly wearing. He led the target for a few seconds, as Wesley suddenly starting walking rapidly towards the chopper and the other side of the helipad, leaving Stryker undiscovered. Wesley disappeared around the side of the chopper. Stryker had his pistol aimed at where he would reappear.

**BLAM! BLAM!** A gun fired. Stryker found himself on the ground, shot in the lower leg. He scrambled back, pulling himself behind cover. The rookie had spotted him, dropped to the ground, and shot him in the leg by going prone on the other side of the chopper! Stryker had been so focussed on where he would walk _out_ he hadn't been noticed the maneuver! He placed a hand on his calf, putting pressure on it, trying to slow the blood loss, his entire leg on feeling like it was on fire.

Footsteps came closer, boots hitting the dark concrete.

"You can surrender now, or I can toss a hand grenade at you." Wesley said, just around the corner. "We both know that I can cook it, toss it ten feet away from you, and with that shot leg, you won't be able to do a thing about it. Kill radius of a frag is about twenty feet. This wall will provide enough cover for me to survive. Blast force alone might kill you." There was silence for a moment, with only the wind rushing past.

Stryker tossed his pistol towards his enemy. "Fine. I give up." The weapon clattered down on the helipad. His attacker stepped out, pistol aimed at him, and Stryker felt pathetic, seeing him close up. The man was in his mid-twenties, at oldest, about 5'10" and looked tense, like a rookie cop alone with a dangerous suspect. Stryker had been defeated by a mere kid. The nervousness faded, and the youth grabbed Stryker and pulled him to his feet.

Wesley held the pistol under Colonel Stryker's chin and slammed him against the wall, his finger on the trigger, ready to kill the man.

"You tried to murder over a hundred thousand United States citizens because you thought the _might_ pose a threat! Because you couldn't control them, you decided to destroy them!" Wesley seethed. "Can you give me one stinking reason not to execute you now?"

"Kill me, and you'll have to deal with Wolverine's rage." Stryker said desperately. "I'm the only one who knows most of his life! Let me go. I'll give your friend his past! I'll save you and your friends from certain death!"

Wesley's hand tightened on the pistol's grip. _"Those who do not punish evil, command it to be done." _The Punisher had said. _"It isn't a question of how many monsters you're willing to kill. It's a question of how many innocent people you're willing to save."_ It was his duty as a human being to kill this madman.

…"_Here in this life, should we not show them some mercy, just as He first showed us mercy?" _Kurt had told him. Wesley hesitated. Stryker was helpless. He could take him prisoner, get Wolverine his lost past... if Stryker's word could be taken. He closed his eyes for a moment. **Remy. Scott. Jubilee. Rogue.** This evil man had tried to kill them, and thousands of other innocent people who didn't deserve to die. Wesley had a duty to protect those American lives, to prevent genocide at any costs. He released Stryker and stepped back.

Society wouldn't punish Stryker. The man's allies would cover up his wrongdoings, and the X-Men would end up the bad guys, militant mutants staging a revolt against the government. Within a few years, Stryker and his friends would be back in business, new names, plots, and errand boys, and Wesley would be dead, along with the X-Men. There was no decision to make.

"Smart choice." Stryker said, assuming Wesley was letting him go.

Wesley raised his pistol and pointed it at the older man's face. "I know." **BLAM!** He fired once, and Stryker fell to the ground. He followed him with the handgun's sights. **BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! **

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Well, that's chapter 26. Please leave a review if you liked it. Next chapter is 75 written, and will be out soon, I hope. I'm very sorry if the timeline got messed up, let me know if you had any confusion. I apologize that Jubilee and Rogue sat this chapter out, they will return soon. And, it will be explained soon why Wesley wasn't affected by the dark cerebro. (As some of you know, Jubilee wasn't either; in the comic books she was invisible on telepathic scans, so the Professor couldn't find her on Cerebro.)


	27. Never mind, let's go!

Here's chapter 27, folks. I do realize I'm changing things from the movie, but I'm just trying to keep the story entertaining and different enough from the movie to make it worth reading. Kinda like 'Separate Ways' on Resident Evil 4. Change things around enough that you play the whole game over again.

Sorry for not updating sooner, I was ill a lot in October, then my mind was on the elections once I finally recovered. Passed out at the doctor's office from sheer weakness when they took blood for testing, my blood pressure was 90/60, you get the idea. It turned out just to be a viral infection, and I'm recovered now.

Thanks for reviewing, **Freegirl, Terracannon876**, and **WillowPebble. **

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Wesley's hand shook slightly as he lowered the pistol, taking his finger off the trigger. The adrenaline-backed rage began to subside, his pulse slowing back down and returning to normal.

"Goodnight." He muttered to Stryker. The genocidal maniac was dead, beyond any doubt. After all the weirdness the man had seen over the last several days, though, he briefly considered trying to find some gasoline to incinerate the corpse, make sure he didn't come back to life or anything. Wesley crouched and frisked the dead officer, looking for anything useful. He found a spare magazine for the .45 pistol Stryker had been carrying and a leather wallet. He opened it. Inside were identification cards, a billfold, and a few pieces of folded notebook paper, hopefully with information on them. He pocketed it. Wesley looked around anxiously; he needed to get back to Logan and regroup with the others.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It seemed like years had passed, and suddenly the pain stopped, the ringing faded. Logan blinked a few times, his vision clearing, use of his limbs regained. He stumbled to his feet, nearly losing his balance. Where was- there. Yuriko was still on the ground. Logan checked her pulse, and found it strong. She was alive. He let a breath out, relieved. She was alive. Whatever had almost knocked both of them out, that must have been Cerebro. So if it had stopped, the others must have rescued Charles, or he broke out of whatever mind control he had been under. He looked around, eyes stopping where Stryker had fled.

Stryker!

Wesley!

He had sent the kid after Stryker! He glanced back at Yuriko, then bolted up the stairway, taking the steps three at a time. At the top of the stairs was a small landing and a door, which was hanging open loosely. A large fire extinguisher lay on the ground nearby; Wesley must have bashed the door open with it. He stepped through into the small tunnel, and hit another door ten feet away. This one was heavier, and had been blasted open. Logan stepped out, wincing as the bright sunlight hit him, reflecting off the snow. There was a small landing pad and a what appeared to be a stairway base entrance a short distance off. _Snick! _His claws came out as the smell of blood reached his nose. Blood, and the acrid smell of burnt gunpowder. Logan gave up subtlety and broke into a run towards the landing pad.

Wesley walked around the side of the chopper, pistol in his hand, several blood splatters on his body armor. _Snik!_ Logan retracted his claws.

"What happened?" They asked each other. Logan rephrased his question first.

"Where's Stryker?" Logan asked, a feeling of dread growing in him. Wesley didn't answer, a betraying mixture of guilt and anger on his face. Logan shoved him aside and ran up to the helipad. It took him a moment to find Stryker, the man's corpse slumped over, four red holes in his face. Wesley had killed him, then vengefully shot him several more times, not caring that the man had Logan's past. He bolted after Wesley, who was just about to re-enter the base, spun him around, and swung a punch. To his surprise, the younger man blocked it and jumped back.

"Why did you do that?" Logan roared, enraged. "He had answers!"

"He tried to murder nearly two million innocent people!" Wesley snarled. Roughly one of out three thousand people could be classified as a mutant, which would equal two million out of six billion, the earth's population.

"If the government finds out, they'll burn you alive!" Logan retorted. "Did you think of _that_?"

"Then I'll-" Wesley suddenly clutched the sides of his head, crying out in pain.

"What is it?" Logan asked. _Snik!_ His claws came out, and he turned around a few times, looking for danger. He couldn't see anything! Wesley was collapsed on the ground now, holding his hands over his ears, moaning. It dawned on Logan… _No, it couldn't be effecting humans now! Charles wouldn't do that!_ The door clanged open behind them, and Magneto and Mystique walked out. Magneto merely raised a hand, and Logan found himself flung into the air, and landed a thousand yards away, smashing through a tree. Mystique glanced down at Wesley, who was now unconscious as the stages of the mental attack progressed.

"Strange." Mangeto said. "I was so sure he was one of us." He shrugged, and walked on, towards the UH-1 Huey. "I didn't think Charles had lied to me. You said Stryker tried to kill you?"

"Yes." Mystique said.

"Wesley told me a few moments after you left the jet, that you wouldn't be able to fool Stryker. And he said it with such surety." Erik mused. He raised a hand, and the doors on the UH-1 opened by themselves. Mystique walked around the front, and stopped suddenly.

"Erik, look at this." She said. "He took down Stryker." The Colonel was dead.

"Professional soldiers are predictable, but the world is full of dangerous amateurs." Magneto commented, smirking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kurt, Storm, Gambit, and six kids were dismayed at what they saw; Jean and Scott lying unconscious, not far from blown apart bodies of soldiers.

"What 'de devil?!" Gambit exclaimed, taking his bo staff out. Kurt teleported down the hallway and back, checking the area.

"There's no one else near." He said.

"Jean! Wake up!" Storm shook Jean several times, to no avail.

She turned to one of the students, a guy with orange and blond hair. "Wake them up. Gently!"

"Okay." The boy said. He touched Jean's hand with one finger; Gambit saw a tiny spark, like static electricity, and Jean suddenly moved, awake. The boy did the same thing with Scott, also successful.

"What happened?" Kurt asked. Jean was silent for a moment.

"What happened?!" Kurt repeated, shouting.

"I think Magneto knocked us out." Scott said, gingerly touching the lump on the back of his head.

"Dear God." Jean said, reaching out with her mind, sensing what was happening. "Charles is still under some sort of control. It must be Jason, somehow tricking the Professor with an illusion."

"Then why did it stop happening?" Gambit asked.

"Magneto somehow changed it." Jean said. "It's still happening. But Charles isn't targeting mutants."

"Then who is he targeting?" Kurt asked.

"Everyone else." Jean said, horrified. "Magneto's trying to use Charles to eradicate mankind."

"The Professor isn't powerful enough to do that!" Scott said. "There's only a million or two mutants around, and there are billions of normal people. Wiping mutantkind out would be cake compared to the task of obliterating the rest of humanity."

"Two million at a time, and he'll have wiped out humanity within a day or two." Jean said. "There'd be no way for anyone to find out where he is to stop him."

"Let's cut de chatter and stop him now!" Gambit said. He laid both hands on the door, and it started glowing a bright orange, growing in intensity. "Get back, everyone!"

"No!" Jean said. "If you do that, it will kill Charles and everyone his mind is linked to!" Gambit re-absorbed the energy, hissing in pain.

"Wish you woulda told me dat a moment ago!" He said, wincing. The door faded to a dark metal again. He looked at the small panel next to the door. "Controls are destroyed. I'd take us a week to rewire it. And the control room doesn't have the power to open this door."

"Kurt!" Storm said. "You have to teleport me inside there!"

"I can't!" Kurt said. It pained him to have to say it. "If I can't see where I'm going, I could end up inside a wall."

"I believe in you." Storm said. She grabbed Kurt and pulled him next to the door, so her back was to it. "This cerebro room will be exactly like the one at the mansion! Just teleport six feet forward!"

"We could both die!" Kurt warned.

"If you don't do it, billions of innocent people will die!" Scott said. "You don't have time!"

Jean focused, placing a mental shield over Kurt and Storm's minds. She couldn't block the other telepath's illusions completely, but she could limit their realism.

"Don't believe anything you see in there. What you feel is real. Go by touch only. Don't trust any other sense." She warned.

"Kurt," Storm said. "We have to." Kurt grimaced and nodded.

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall vear no evil-" BAMF! They reappeared inside the room, alive. "-for thou art vith me!" Kurt finished.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Storm looked around. It was the Professor's office, furnished down to the last trinket and book, as far as she could see. Behind the oak desk was a little girl, perhaps eight years old, clothed in a white nightgown.

"What are you doing here?" The little girl asked.

"She's not real," Ororo said calmly, almost detachedly. "Kurt, don't move. I know what I'm doing." The cerebro room had a small walkway in the middle of the room. If she just walked forward slowly, she would run into the Professor. She edged forward, carefully making sure there was ground before she stepped forward. What looked like soft carpet felt like cold metal.

"Go away!" The little girl said. "You're not supposed to be here!" Storm kept going.

"Neither is the Professor," Ororo said. "I'm sure you won't mind me fetching him, then leaving?"

"I'll kill you if you don't leave." The girl said evilly. "I'll kill **him**." She said, looking past Storm, towards Kurt.

"If you could kill either of us you would have done so already." Storm said, taking another cautious step. "You wouldn't have threatened us." The child was silent for a moment, thinking of her next move.

"You look like a demon." The little girl said to Kurt suddenly. She smiled chillingly. "Want to see how much of a demon I can be?"

The little girl warped into a huge demonic creature, maybe fifteen feet tall and eight feet wide, with huge wings, horns, and a hammer in his fist. The desk was thrown aside and the creature smashed the walls down and the ceiling, rearing up.

"Zis is not real, right?" Kurt asked hesitantly, fear in his voice. It wasn't real, but frighteningly convincing nonetheless.

"That's right, Kurt." Storm said, as much to convince herself as to reassure him. "Ignore it. It's just a hallucination." She hoped. The monster roared and swung its hammer, smashing down in front of Storm, making a crater in the floor.

"I think I found him!" Storm said. She felt the wheelchair, and found the occupant. Her hand went up from his shoulder to his head. "It's not him." This guy had a thin amount of hair; Charles was bald.

_That must be the telepath that's controlling the Professor._ Jean said mentally from outside the room.

"Release the Professor, and make him stop hurting people!" Storm ordered the monster.

"NEVER!" It roared. "I'll never make him stop!"

_I sure hope this isn't a mistake. _Ororo thought, her patience at its end, along with her nerves. If she kept taking her time, each second would start costing lives.She grasped the heavy wheelchair and pushed it to her right. It fell away, vanishing from touch, taking its occupant with it.

The illusion stopped. The Professor's office melted away, the wood fading to reveal the shabby copy of Cerebro room. Charles Xavier was in a wheelchair at the end of the platform, slumped over cerebro.

"What… happened?" He asked groggily, looking around. "I thought I had escaped…"

"Vow. I'm glad zats gone." Kurt said, breathing deeply. Storm placed a hand on Charles, and helped him up, making sure not to look down over the edge of the walkway.

"It's okay now. Everything is okay. Kurt, get us out of here." Storm said. Kurt walked forward, placing one hand on Storm, the other on the Professor. BAMF! The puff of smoke faded, leaving the room empty, except for a doomed Jason Stryker.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Logan stumbled through line of trees, pulling a few twigs and pieces of bark out of his skin. The dizziness from the concussion faded, and his vision returned to normal. His sense of direction back, he ran to the helipad, as the UH-1 lifted off. Magneto had escaped again. Logan heard a grunt and turned, to see Wesley regaining his feet, apparently recovered.

"You okay?" Logan asked. The man nodded, rubbing his forehead.

"I guess they succeeded." Wesley said slowly, his head pounding with a migraine. He checked to make sure the shotgun was still on his back, then clicked the safety on his pistol and holstered it.

"Let's get back with the others," Logan said. "We can settle that argument some other time." The sight of Wesley in agony had erased Logan's urge to use him as a punching bag.

"Did you win your duel?" Wesley asked, walking slowly over to an outcropping on the base wall and sitting down, his limbs weak. He felt exhausted, as if he had not eaten for a day, then jogged two miles in fifteen minutes in full gear. He rubbed his eyes. Stryker had several minutes by himself. He could have called in an air strike, reinforcements… Wesley stood and focused, trying to look forward into time. Everything seemed to grow fuzzy, blurred, like trying to see clearly in a dream. He looked down at his watch, the one thing that stayed sharp. The minutes hand moved forward visibly, the seconds speeding by. Wesley peered farther, his sight getting worse, the edges of his visions turning black, what he could see becoming so blurred he almost couldn't make it out…

"She's unconscious, not dead." Logan said. "I'll bring her with us back to the institute. I think I met her before, somewhere. Besides, it looks like she wasn't working for Stryker. He was somehow controlling her, like he was controlling Scott." The man wasn't paying any attention to him, he was just looking around, bewilderment on his face.

"Magneto's chopper is over there." Logan said, pointing towards the craft, which was probably four or five miles away, and now just a small dot. Wesley stopped turning around, rubbing his eyes and tottering as if he might fall down. "Give me your headset!" Wesley snapped.

"What? Why?" Logan asked. Wesley snatched it off Logan's ear, put it on, and started running, back into the base, retracing their steps. Logan bolted after him.

"Everyone, get back to the jet! We have to evac now!" Wesley shouted into the small radio. "Jubilee, Rogue, prep the jet for liftoff!" The two clattered down the stairway, back into the surgery room. Logan ran over to where he had left Yuriko.

She was gone!

_No! _Logan cried silently. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Yuriko!" There was no answer. The woman was gone. Wesley was partly down the hallway, ignoring his distress.

"I don't care who needs to rest, we _have to go now!_" Wesley screamed into the headset. "What part of that is hard to understand?!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gambit took the headset off; he could hear Wesley shouting well enough without having the speaker next to his ear.

"What's going on?!" He heard Jubilee shouting back.

"The base is going to explode! We have to evac now!" Wesley said. "Whoever's not there in seven minutes will have to be left behind! Magneto and Mystique already commandeered a chopper and escaped!"

"How do you know the base is going to blow up?" Gambit asked, looking over at everyone. The students were happy to see the Professor again, despite him being worse for the wear.

"I can see a short distance into the future, and I have been able to ever since Liberty Island!" The tiny voice said. "I was right there when Magneto's device went off, don't you remember? I don't know if it'll be an airstrike or a bomb going off in the base, but this place is going to blow up."

"He's telling the truth." Charles said, hearing the conversation. "If he says the base is going to blow up, it probably is. We had better leave."

"Besides, even if it's not, we might be facing military reinforcements if we linger." Scott agreed. He was the leader again. "I'll carry you. Gambit, Kurt, carry the two slowest kids. Jean, Storm, take point. Everyone, let's get to the jet!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Magneto had almost forgotten about the small radio headset, but the helicopter was still within the device's range. It seemed the blackbird acted like a cell phone tower for the headsets, giving them an impressive range.

"I can see the future, and I have been able to ever since Liberty Island!" He heard Wesley shouting over the radio.

"My dear," Magneto said, looking at Mystique. "We need to do a little recruiting..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is that why you've had such quick reflexes lately?" Logan asked Wesley as they ran through tunnels, trying to remember how to get back to the landing zone. "How far **can** you see into the future?"

"Yeah, it's why. And, I can see about ten seconds ahead, maximum, if it's situation I'm taking part in." Wesley said, gasping for breath mid-reply. He felt like he was going to collapse and face plant in the steel floor. "Things I'm not interacting with, that my actions don't effect, I can see farther, up to an hour." He could probably save lives with the ability, if he spent enough time looking for an opportunity.

"After this is over, we're going to Las Vegas!" Logan proclaimed, as they ran around a bend in the tunnel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The open doorway was in sight, the metal giving way to snow and trees, cold wind rushing to meet them. Snow crunched under their feet, but Jean and Storm halted at the treeline, the students doing the same.

"Wait! The woods have landmines!" Jean warned. "Magneto lead us along a certain path. I don't remember exactly where it was."

"I have to put you down for a moment, Professor." Scott said. Jean and Storm supported Charles, each having an arm under his shoulders.

"Which way? Which way to the jet?" Scott asked urgently. Jean pointed.

"That way, almost half a mile!" She said. Scott grimaced. He already felt terrible, foot burnt, head pounding from the aftereffects of the drugs, and none of the students seemed in much better shape. He raised a hand to his visor; he'd have to blast a trail into the woods to clear any mines-

"I can take us the rest of the vay." Kurt said. BAMF! He vanished, still holding the child. Four seconds later he re-appeared. "Join hands!"

BAMF! The group was suddenly right outside the jet, the door already open.

"Get in!" Rogue said. A few moments later she noticed something. "Where's Logan and Wesley?"

"We thought they'd be here!" Scott said. Storm tapped the side of her radio.

"Wesley, Logan, everyone else is at the landing zone, what's your status?" She asked, fear growing.

"Standby, we're almost there!" Wesley replied.

"Roger, we're prepping for takeoff," Ororo said, taking the pilot's seat and pressing several buttons.

"Everyone, strap in!" Scott hollered, running to the front of the get. The radio came to life again. Wesley's voice sounded a bit more desperate this time.

"We can't make it to the landing zone it time, we'll find another way out. You guys have to liftoff, we'll alert you as soon as we get out and you can have Kurt pick us up."

"Copy that." Jean said. She pushed a button and the hatch closed up. "Blackbird out."

"What?" Jubilee protested as the jet began to lift into the air. "We are not leaving them!"

"No, we're not." Storm agreed calmly. "They're finding another exit out of the base and Kurt will pick them up. No one's getting left behind."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wesley had to try twice to connect his hand to the radio as he ran, keeping up with Logan. "Standby! We're almost there!" _I hope!_ He added silently. They had been on the complete other side of the base away from the jet, probably half a mile of passageways and tunnels, a complete maze, then they had another half mile through the woods. Wesley desperately hoped Logan knew where they were; he had no idea, and was just trying to keep up.

"How long do we have?" It occurred to Logan to ask.

"Four minutes?" Wesley guessed, trying to see far enough ahead. Logan swore several times, answering Wesley's unspoken question. They didn't have enough time. Not taking that route, anyway. He spoke into the radio, trying not to sound alarmed.

"We can't make it to the landing zone it time. We'll find another way out. You guys have to liftoff, we'll alert you as soon as we get out and you can have Kurt pick us up." He slowed down for a moment, panting.

"Copy that." Jean said. "Blackbird out."

Logan suddenly changed his direction, running down a hallway and finding an elevator. _Snik!_ His slashed several times at the elevator door, hacking it away, revealing a dark, empty elevator shaft. The elevator itself was down below, apparently. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, letting him see clearly despite the low light. Wesley caught up with him, then leaned forward and peered down. It looked like a bottomless black pit.

"Down the cables! Just like fast roping off a chopper!" Logan ordered. He took a few steps back, and launched himself forward, grabbing on. "We can still escape!" Apparently he was starting to remember his way around the base. Wesley hoped that included remember exits.

"That shaft could go down twenty levels and we could be buried alive when the place is blown up!" Wesley shot back, not convinced. He remembered something, and shifted awkwardly, reaching for the shotgun slung across his back. The weapon had a flashlight mounted on the barrel. He clicked it on, feeling a small measure of relief. He wouldn't be in complete darkness going down.

"Have a little faith, junior, I know what I'm doing!" Logan snapped. He slid down, vanishing from sight. Wesley took a deep breath. _Dear Lord, please get us out of this,_ he prayed silently, as he jumped. The cables abruptly stopped him in mid-leap, and he barely managed to keep from falling. Squeezing a steel support rope between his boots to ease the strain on his arms, he tried to find a smoother cable that wouldn't butcher his hands on the way down. To his relief, one had a plastic casing. He shifted, securing a grip on it, making sure to carefully position his feet properly.

"I'm at the bottom!" Logan's voice echoed up. "The elevator is five floors down! I'm making an exit!"

"Be right there!" Wesley shouted. He tried moving his sleeves forward to protect his hands, then slid down into the darkness, the shotgun's flashlight illuminating a only a short distance ahead as he descended into the lower levels…

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Well, that's that. I hoped you like it, it was a more difficult chapter for me to write. I know in the movie they have enough time to make it back to the jet even from the other side of the base, but I'm mixing things up a bit to make it new and interesting. Please review if you liked it.


	28. Going Home

Here is the next chapter, rather quickly, I might add. At least, for me, it's a quick update. Reason is, it was going to be part of chapter 27 but then I cut it off so I could finish editing and update sooner. Of course, the downside is it's a short update, about half the size of the last several chapters.

Anonymous **Julie**, thanks for reviewing, I appreciate it and I'm glad you enjoy the story. You should really register on the site. It's free, easy, and convenient. Then you can leave signed reviews, get personal responses, make a list of favorites, and get direct email alerts when your favorite stories are updated. The emails also have a link directly to the story, so you don't even have to go and search.

**Freegirl**, thanks for so faithfully reviewing.

People, we are rapidly closing the plot of X-Men 2, and I am not entirely sure where this story should go. I have a few ideas, but nothing is set in stone or published yet. Anyone, feel free to pm me or say in a review what you think the next unit of the story should be.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Wesley's boots slammed into the roof of the elevator, sending a shock through the nerves of his legs. He quickly grabbed the shotgun off his back and aimed it down. The weapon-mounted light revealed a triangle shaped hatch cut in the elevator, three feet wide. He jumped down, flashing the light ahead of him. The door was hacked off, revealing a pitch-black hallway.

"Come'on!" Logan shouted. "I know where we are! We can still make it!" Wesley moved cautiously towards where the voice came from.

"How can you see?" He asked. "And, why is the power's off on this level?" He had a creeping feeling something was going to leap out of the darkness and grab him; the fact that the shotgun was empty did nothing to alleviate that fear.

"I don't need light to find my way," Logan said. Wesley caught up with him as he was hacking a door down. "I think that cerebro they made, it required tons of power to run, so they shut off everything in the lower levels." Logan stepped back.

"Can't slice the door?" Wesley asked. Logan kicked the center, and the door collapsed into neatly cut chunks. Logan ran through, claws still out. Wesley followed.

"Some things never change!" Logan said, running towards the far side of the room, which, unlike the hallway, had backup lights glowing softly, illuminating the room enough to see. There were racks along one wall, full of rifles, pistols, submachine guns, and several 40mm grenade launchers, neatly sealed in airtight storage bags, protected from time and humidity. Below them were shelves packed with sealed ammo cans, labeled things like **5.56x45mm**, **SS190 5.7x28mm**, along with other equipment. Wesley recognized several storage cases of night vision goggles, each unit worth at least two thousand dollars. He paused, awed by the huge amounts of expensive weaponry and gear. In the middle of the room were snowmobiles, ATV's, and several jeeps, which Logan was running towards.

"Can we-?" Wesley began, taking a slow step.

"No!" Logan bellowed, dragging a snowmobile to the large, closed doors, then hacking an exit. Daylight flooded in through the new gap, along with bitterly cold air. They were near the shore of the lake, in an armory/motor pool. Logan had probably succeeded in saving both their lives.

"But it's-"

"You got a free combat shotgun, be happy with that and get over here!" Logan yelled, heaving the snowmobile through the crude exit and setting it down in the snow. Wesley ran after him, groaning at the thought of the small fortune worth of weapons and gear he was leaving behind. Logan turned the key in ignition and the craft's engine revved to life as Wesley jumped on the back.

"Hang on!" He warned. The snowmobile shot forward, taking down along the shoreline of the frozen lake.

"Blackbird, come in, do you read us?" Wesley shouted over the wind and the engine. Logan had the snowmobile going around fifty miles an hour, fast enough to make him nervous.

"We hear you, did you find a way out?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, we're on the shore of the lake below the dam, heading… south, I think! Are you airborne?" Wesley said.

"We are airborne." Scott said. "We'll fly by and have Kurt pick you guys up. Get going, it could take us a minute to find you. Blackbird out."

"They're going to fly by and pick us up." Wesley said to Logan.

"Pick us up as in land or 'BAMFing us up ?" Logan shot back.

"The latter!" Wesley said.

"Just for once, I would like to board that jet using my own two feet!" Logan replied. Wesley laughed, then glanced back. They were three-quarters of a mile or so away from the base, and he thought he could see the blackbird a few miles up in the sky, cruising towards them.

"Oh, this is bad," Wesley said solemnly. "Now I'm glad I didn't stop to grab guns."

"What, what's wrong?" Logan asked, the wind howling in his ears.

**KA-BOOM!**

The base simply disintegrated, in the purist sense of the word. Chunks of rubble the size of cars were hurled into the air and out of sight. A wave of heat hit them both, making them realize…

"Brace for-" Logan started to say, when they were both thrown forward off the snowmobile, a roar in their ears.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They crashed!" Jubilee wailed, pointing. "Right there!"

"I saw, I saw!" Scott replied tersely. "You saw where they landed, right, Kurt?" He asked, hurling the Blackbird forward, avoiding rubble. The fact that the jet was still airborne despite the enormous concussion wave was a testament to his piloting skill.

"Ja! I just need to be a little closer!" Kurt said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Logan staggered to his feet, ears ringing loudly, head pounding, as he looked back towards the base. It was gone, just debris left. The sky had taken on a gray hue from the dust and smoke, making the area look like a warzone. He wondered what the secret service was telling the President right now. First several million people collapse and almost die, then a military compound blew up.

"Kid?" He yellowed weakly. The aches started fading, along with the ringing in his ears, as his healing factor worked. Logan turned around a few times. The snowmobile was crashed into a tree, looking totaled. He spotted Wesley lying on the ground, a dozen feet off.

"Junior, you okay?" Logan called, walking over to him. He grumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" Logan asked, standing next to him. The guy looked like he was in one piece.

"Do… I… look okay?" Wesley moaned, still on the ground. His thick kevlar vest had cushioned the impact somewhat, but the armor was made to help people survive firefights, not car accidents.

"What hurts?" Logan questioned.

"Everything." Wesley said, groaning.

"Can you move your hands and feet?" Logan asked neutrally.

"I already checked, my neck isn't broken." Wesley said, holding a hand up weakly. Logan took it and pulled the man to his feet.

"Oh, hey." Logan said, trotting a few yards off and picking something up. "You dropped your souvenir!" The tactical shotgun didn't seem worse for the wear, unlike its owner. Wesley accepted it back, mumbling a thank you.

BAMF! Kurt suddenly materialized from nowhere. "Now boarding flight 25, soon to be flooded lakeshore to New York!" He said. He grabbed Logan's arm and took Wesley's hand as well.

"Full power to teleporters, Scotty!" The bodyguard joked weakly.

"Aye aye, sir!" Kurt replied, trying to mimic a Scottish accent. Wolverine laughed.

BAMF!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

BAMF!

They were suddenly in midair, several thousand feet above the ground, the blackbird around fifty feet away.

"You missed!" Logan bellowed. "How could you miss?!"

BAMF!

All three landed in aisle between the rows of seats, and the students applauded. Kurt immediately stood and took a bow, enjoying the moment.

"What… was that?" Logan asked shakily.

"I had to be able to see inside the jet or I could teleport into someone." Kurt said. "You understand, ja?"

"Good to see you two still standing." Scott said. "I saw the snowmobile flip over and throw you guys off."

"It wasn't that bad." Wesley said, moving gingerly, his entire body feeling like a bruise.

"With Wolvie's heavy metal butt weighing the thing down, you mean!" Jubilee, grinning. "Imagine if you'd been on that thing alone! You'd a been thrown into a tree fifty feet away!"

"No kidding." Remy said. He slapped a hand on Wesley's back, making him wince. "I was starting to get nervous!"

"Thank you both for coming to rescue myself and Scott." Charles said warmly to Logan and Wesley. "We need to get to the School, then to Washington, as soon as possible, though. These events are about to make an impact on the entire nation, I fear."

"What happened to Stryker?" Rogue asked. The question hung in the air for a moment.

"He's dead." Wesley said. "His remains were incinerated in the blast, no doubt." He didn't feel any need to elaborate that he himself had personally executed the Colonel, as no evidence of that now existed. He sat down next to Logan, letting out a breath tiredly.

"If everyone could a seat, we'll make best speed possible back to WestChester." Scott said. "Remy will be mixing then passing out hot cocoa and rolls." He said to the younger students. Gambit rolled his eyes, but made his way to the small sink and cabinets in the back of the jet.

_You killed Stryker, I take it?_ Jean asked Wesley, using telepathy.

_The government wouldn't have, I guarantee you that. _Wesley shot back.

_Wesley did what he felt was necessary,_ Charles broke in, speaking to both Jean and Wesley. _That should be enough for us. _

_I was merely asking, _Jean said neutrally. _This was a war. I understand that the enemy cannot be allowed to go free. _

_My apologies for snapping, _Wesley said, rubbing his forehead. _I'm just a bit stressed. _

_I understand, believe me. _Jean said. _We all need a looong vacation after this._ Wesley smiled at that, then glanced at Logan next to him. The man was staring out the window, not speaking.

"Think she survived?" Logan asked quietly. It took Wesley a moment to realize what he meant. His female duplicate.

"Undoubtedly." Wesley said, whispering, so only Logan could hear him. "She probably knew the base was rigged to detonate. She could've even slipped right past us, when I was unconscious from cerebro and you were still hiking back from where Magneto threw you." He seemed a little comforted.

"How'd it go?" Jubilee asked, sitting down in front of the two. "Sounded intense from the radio chatter."

"Well enough." Wesley said. "We won, and lived to say it. That's always a good thing. Of course, sometimes just surviving is a victory."

"Why the heck didn't you tell me you could see the future?" Jubilee said irately, suddenly changing tones and topics. "You ask me out to dinner and a movie but don't even mention you know what people will do before they do it?" Logan chuckled.

"I didn't know what you would say when I asked," Wesley said honestly, "and, it's like telling people how fast you can do a pistol target course or rappel down a five story building. If people want to know, they'll ask."

"Fine." Jubilee said, pretending to be exasperated. "I'll let you live this time."

"Very gracious of you," Wesley said, faking seriousness. "Otherwise my tombstone would read, 'Here lies Wesley Judson, survivor of armed home invasion by multiple perpetrators, Ex-Navy Seamen, private security contractor under ARGUS inc, killed by an angry teenage girl.' That'd be an inglorious ending."

"What'd you do in the Navy?" Jubilee asked curiously.

"I was a Seamen in Law Enforcement and Security." Wesley said. "Seamen equals Private in Army and Marines. I was basically a navy cop, policing the sailors. Thankfully, the training was worth something, since I just about did it for free."

"How much did you make?" She asked.

"Just a little bit above nothing." Wesley said. "I was a grunt, I'm sad to say. Made about thirteen grand a year, pathetic. As soon as my enlistment was over, I was out of there. You're either in the military for the training or because you love your country. The pay is lousy."

"You didn't know that before you signed up?" Logan asked, chuckling. Wesley sighed and continued on.

"Anyway, I got out, joined up with ARGUS, and have been working with them for three years. At first I just guarded low-level importance locations, like laboratories and warehouses with sensitive materials. Now I also get assigned as part of security details for moderately important VIP's." Wesley said. "My pay's thirty-eight thousand a year before taxes. Pretty good, I think."

"Wait, we forgot something." Rogue suddenly spoke up. She looked towards the back of the jet. "Remy? How exactly did you get to that base before we did?" The Cajun laughed sheepishly.

"Well?" She asked. "What happened?"

"Well, just make sure the none of kids don't open a certain closet back at the school, the one with the chair and broomstick holding it shut." Gambit said. "I caught a ride to the base with the good Colonel and his men, dressed as one of his men, and there wasn't any Army Navy Surplus store nearby to buy a uniform."

"Yuck!" Jubilee said, making a face. Rogue had a cross between disgust and shock on her face. Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh, don't worry, he's still alive." Remy said. "I think. Probably."

"What'll we tell the repair crews?" Logan wondered.

"What, there's damage at the school?" Jean asked.

"Some bullet holes here and there, along with doors blasted down with breaching charges." Logan said, shrugging. "Could be worse." There was silence for a moment.

"That's the last time we leave you in charge." Scott muttered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Well, there's chapter 28. I hope you liked it, please leave a review. Oh, and Wesley's talk about the Navy, what he did and such? I actually researched to get that information, looking up careers, enlistment times, pay grades, and such. I thought I'd give a little more about his background.


	29. Homecoming

Chapter 29. It's been a little over two years since I started writing this story. Wow. Two years, just like that. Life's short. One day, it's gone…

Thanks for all the thorough reviewing, **Wanda W.** I greatly appreciate it. And the next three chapters or four chapters so will be relaxation and character development, not action. I'm just unsure what the plot of the next chunk of the story should be.

**Julie,** thanks for the review of Chapter 28.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

"We're coming up on the school." Scott announced. "Thirty seconds and it should be in sight. Beginning our final descent." Several of the students cheered. The ground slowly became larger and more detailed as the altitude lowered.

"Looks empty." Jean mused. "The front yard doesn't have tanks or police cars in it, that is."

"Let's hope for that, at least." Logan said.

"This doesn't make sense." Rogue said. "You guys said you killed some of the raiders, and that happened early this morning." She glanced at her watch. "What, twelve hours ago? The police, FBI, and whoever else should still be here going through every room looking for evidence and stuff."

"Stryker must have not reported what happened." The Professor said. "We don't know if he was acting with proper authorization, either."

"Right." Gambit said. "He was planning on wiping out all mutants anyway, why would he bother report that some of his men got killed by mutants?"

"We're not out of the woods yet." Wesley muttered. The basketball court divided in the middle and retracted, opening to reveal the hanger. Scott guided the craft down gently, a bump rocking the passengers as the landing gear hit the floor. The basketball court above them slid back into place.

"We'll have to clear the place and make sure there are no mines or anything left behind." Scott said.

"Paranoid gym teacher." Logan mocked. "We're not dealing with scorched earth terrorists. They had no backup plans in case they lost."

"We can't bet lives on that." Ororo said quietly. "A mundane task or not, checking will be necessary."

"Speaking of which, how will we find the other kids?" Wesley asked. "Peter, John, Bobby, and all the others? They ran off into the woods."

"They were following emergency protocol." The Professor said. "I own a small bunker not far from the school. That's where they went, undoubtedly. The bunker is well stocked with food, water, clothing and other supplies."

"A bunker?" Wesley repeated.

"Yes." Xavier said. Wesley raised his eyebrows. "I own a lot of assets around the nation." The Professor explained.

"Are we doing this?" Scott asked. "Ororo, stay here with the student and the Professor. Everyone else, form up." Jean and Kurt stretched and walked over to him, near the back of the jet. Remy, Logan, and Wesley didn't move. Scott looked furious. "Did you three go deaf all of the sudden?" He snapped. Remy groaned dramatically. "The sooner we check to make sure the place is safe, the sooner we get to clean up and rest." They got up and joined Scott.

"You might not be billing us for the rooms, but we sure have to earn our keep." Logan grumbled.

"I am very sorry about the events of the past day, but it was out of my control." Xavier said. "If I had known what was going to happen, I would have acted accordingly. We will proceed with nothing but the utmost caution."

"Kurt, check around the hanger." Scott ordered.

"Ja." He said. BAMF! He teleported out. Several seconds later he reappeared.

"It's clear."

The back hatch of the blackbird lowered, and Scott strode to the circular doors leading to the underground hallways. He tapped the button. The door didn't move.

"Locked." He said. He leaned forward and spoke into a hidden microphone. "Cyclops." A small metal panel slid back, revealing a scanner. Scott took his left glove off and placed his hand on it. The device hummed as it scanned his hand, checking his identity.

"Identity confirmed, Cyclops." A computer voice said.

"Unlock all doors." Scott ordered.

"Command confirmed. Deactivating and releasing all locks." The computer said. An audible click was heard.

"I'm opening the door." Scott said. "Stack up." The other team members lined up against the wall on both sides of the door, Scott directly to the left, with his hand on his visor, Wesley directly to the right, pistol up and ready. He tapped the button and the doors hissed and opened, lights powering on. Wesley peeked around the corner, being careful to expose the smallest amount of his head possible. The hallway seemed empty. He stepped out from cover and advanced, Scott next to him.

"Clear." Scott said quietly. "We'll need to check several more rooms, though, before we know the lower levels are secure." He strode down the metallic hallway, and they came to an X. Not a dozen feet away was an elevator, right where the two lines met. Scott checked the corners; the area was clear. "Logan, Wesley, go right. Kurt, Remy, go straight. Jean and I will go left. Move out."

_Ten minutes later…_

"So, nothing seems tampered with except Cerebro?" The Professor clarified. They were all in the 'war room', which held several large computers and some equipment. More importantly for the students, along with Remy and Wesley, it had food and drinks.

"Right." Jean said. "They removed several of the critical components. I guess they couldn't entirely build one of their own, even with Erik's help."

"When can we go back upstairs?" Rogue asked, her voice tinged with frustration and exhaustion. She had been awake for 48 hours, or something like that. Simple math was too hard at the moment. The lower levels were neat, but she just wanted to collapse on her bed and sleep.

"As soon as you convince your boyfriend and his pal that they've had enough of a break." Scott barked. "We'd be half done by now if they didn't beg to stop for lunch. Charles said we all go up as a group, for safety's sake."

"Could you guys check the upstairs?" Rogue pleaded, looking at Gambit and Wesley, the two Scott had been speaking of.

"We will. Soon." Wesley said tiredly, his mouth full. Half of an energy bar was in his hand, his third in five minutes minutes. The group had already gone through several boxes.

"Give him a minute, _chere._" Gambit said, sipping a Dr. Pepper. Wesley glared at him, the food starting to ease his hunger and the trembling feelings he had in his limbs.

"Oh, give _him_ a minute." He said. "As in, 'I could run a marathon right now, but let my pathetic friend get something to eat so he doesn't faint.'"

"_Homie_," Remy said casually. "You just took da words out of my mouth." Rogue gave Jubilee a look.

"You guys have to act _so_ macho." Jubilee spoke up. "Come'on, we're all dead tired and we all know it. Just check the stinkin' rooms to make sure the bogeymen have left, okay?" Scott looked like he was about to add something to that statement, when Logan interrupted him.

"Enough." The Canadian said. "Odds are a hundred to one that there's nothing scarier up there than some moldy laundry. Let's just go check so the kids won't be jumping at shadows. I'd go do it myself if the Professor wasn't being so dang insistent that well all go together."

"Fine." Wesley said exasperatedly. "Let's go."

"At last." Jean said. "We still have more work to do after this. You three will have the rest of the day off, at least."

They piled into the elevator after Jean unlocked it. Wesley took his pistol back out and clicked the safety off. Scott adjusted something on his visor, getting ready to blast anything he needed to at the top.

Wesley tapped Logan on the shoulder. "Hey, if there are people waiting outside the elevator to gun us down when the doors open," Wesley said offhandedly, "I'm using you as a human shield." Scott smirked. Logan flicked out his middle claw briefly.

The car stopped, and the doors slid open. Nothing. The group stepped away from the cover of the elevator and spread out. The only audible sound was the ticking of a grandfather clock, and the wind.

"It's cold." Jean whispered, surprised. It wasn't supposed to be. The air outside the elevator felt fifteen degrees colder than the lower levels.

"Ice." Logan said.

"What?" Remy asked.

"Ice. I had Bobby, with Kitty's help, ice the main hallways shut, to slow down the raiders." Logan said quietly. "Stuff's probably not melted yet." He turned the corner and headed towards the main offices, stopping at the Professor's door. Logan tried to turn the handle, but to no avail. The door had been frozen shut, a layer of ice sealing it.

"Here, let me." Gambit said. He placed a hand on the ice, charging it. Instead of blowing up, though, it simply turned to steam. The handle turned and the door swung open. The room looked exactly like it should.

"We all know that no one's still here, except for that one guy." Scott said. "So let's all split up and just check the rooms quickly. Maybe we'll be done in half an hour. Remy, you're coming with me. There's a containment cell in the lower levels. We'll take that last commando down there. Everyone else, just be cautious."

_Forty-five minutes later…_

Jean stepped out of the elevator, her shoes tapping the metal of the floor.

"All clear?" Storm asked, pacing the hallways.

"Yeah." Jean said. "The raiders, they took their dead with them, but you can still tell where the fighting took place. Several hallways have blood splatters. One is littered with shell casings, and reeks of smoke. The carpets will certainly need a cleaning. That, and the walls. A few places are shot up pretty badl Oh, and we taped up a couple of shattered windows that they used for rapid entry. We swept up most of the broken glass, and Kurt's vacuuming around the spots to make sure. I told Wesley and Logan to clean the place up the best they could before the kids go up there." She ran a hand through her hair. "I swear, I am not going to be the one to talk to the workmen when we have the repairs done."

"Sounds like the boys had fun." Storm commented dryly. "It's a miracle we didn't lose anyone. Scott arrived at the bunker. The rest of the students were inside, unharmed-they'll be here in a few minutes. Everyone is accounted for."

"Good." Jean said. "Let's get everyone back upstairs." Storm fidgeted a little.

"Something wrong?" Jean asked.

"Not really." Storm said. "But the students…" She glanced towards the war room, where everyone was waiting. "Will they ever feel safe again here? This is supposed to be a place of refuge, of protection. Yet Stryker just waltzed in here and kidnapped six of them."

"He hardly 'waltzed' in." Jean pointed out. "Stryker paid in blood to take this place." She headed towards the war room, Storm following. "As far as the students, they'll be okay. Kids are amazing. Kids can recover from injuries that would kill us adults, they can shake off traumas that would leave us mentally scarred... they're stronger than we give them credit for. It'll take a while, but they will feel safe here again."

"Maybe we really should bring those three onto the team." Storm said, bringing up an earlier discussion, from yesterday. "They've been a great help. Imagine going through the events of the last twenty-four hours without them. That would have been difficult. **Very** difficult."

"Still, what would they teach?" Jean asked, starting to walk towards the War Room. "I think Remy speaks French proficiently, so he could teach French classes. Logan, he could teach combat, physical education, stuff like that, but I don't think he'd have the patience to teach kids. Wesley, he's still a kid himself, and he doesn't seem like the sort that would take the job anyway. We don't even have fifty students here, we don't really need seven teachers."

"You have a point." Storm admitted. "I don't know if it would work. But it's definitely something we should consider." Jean nodded her agreement as she tapped in the access button on the door, then strode into the War Room, putting a cheerful demeanor on for the sake of the students.

"Good news!" Jean said. "We get to go back upstairs. The rooms have all been checked, everything's fine now. The others will be here soon also."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

So, there's chapter 29, mostly just a necessary transition—I would've just skipped it somehow, but when I tried, it didn't turn out well enough. I know this chapter wasn't exceptional, but I'm hoping it turned out fair, decent.

Trivia question; in this chapter, the computer obeys Scott's command and says, "Deactivating and releasing all locks." What famous gamecube video game has a computer say the same thing right near the end of the game?


	30. Take a break

Julie! Thanks for leaving a review, I'm glad you're reading and enjoying the story. What characters in particular would you like introduced? Ask, and it shall be granted unto you. Seriously speaking, there are hundreds of possible Marvel characters I could bring in, and I have no clue which ones you would like to see. Let me know who you have in mind.

Wanda W. Thank you for all the reviews, so extremely thorough, as well. You give a well-written little analysis of the chapter when you leave a review and comment on the various points, which I greatly appreciate.

Anyway, here's the chapter. Thinking back, it might have been a good idea if I had made it a habit a few months ago to plan out the next several chapters, so when I sit down at my laptop, I have a good idea of what I plan to type. Regardless of the improvising involved, I think this chapter turned out fairly well. Enjoy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The line for breakfast at the cafeteria wasn't bad, since it was nine-thirty, nearing ending time. The room only had handful of others in it as Wesley tiredly carried his tray to a table and sat, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Wake up!" A voice shouted at him. He jerked backwards, almost falling out of the chair. The voice started laughing.

"I wasn't asleep." He said, rubbing his eyes.

"I know." Jubilee smirked, sitting down across from him. "But you looked like fair game anyway."

"Haha." Wesley said, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, testing if it had cooled enough. "So, you doing okay?" Jubilee raised her eyebrows, as if surprised he would ask such a thing.

"What, don't I look okay?" She asked, making a face. "I should ask you the same. You look beat."

"I meant, about yesterday." He said. "It's just… some people, they have a hard time coping after seeing stuff like that. Besides, you're not wearing your usual yellow. I'm concerned." He added the last part jokingly, but combat related stress was a serious problem among soldiers. Suicide rates among deployed troops was close to twice as much as civilian suicide rates, and that was with troops that had been properly rotated to avoid placing too much stress on them. Decades earlier, the Soviets had found that out the hard way, with alarming amounts of soldiers becoming mentally unhinged after periods of extended combat.

"I'm fine." Jubilee said. "Seriously. Did you have problems, when… that happened?" She asked, referring to the incident he had told her about.

"It took me months to get back to normal." He admitted. "I just wanted to make sure you're fine."

"Your concern is touching," Jubilee said, smiling. "Rest at ease. My fragile mind is intact."

"Glad to hear it." Wesley said. "And I wasn't implying you're fragile. Many people would have frozen up, paralyzed by fear during that raid. You didn't panic and you didn't freeze up. Instead you helped me out and then figured an escape route. For someone with no combat training, that was very good work."

"Very kind of you, G. I. Joe." She laughed, finishing with her small breakfast and standing. "I'm heading over to the gym, want to come with? That is, by the way, why I'm not dressed in yellow. They only had blue and black sweat suits at the store, no yellow."

"Wish I could." Wesley said. "But I left my van over in Manhattan and have to go get it. Outside a Punisher safe house is the last place I would want my van found. I won't be back until this afternoon."

"Well, happy driving." Jubilee said. "Don't get blown up like that other car." She added with pretended seriousness as she walked off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The mansion was quiet this morning, Logan noted, at ten am. Every morning he had spent there, the mornings where humming with noise from kids running around, getting to classes, ect. The kids were there that morning, but they were quiet, and they were sticking in groups, not running around alone. Even though it was Tuesday, there were no classes. Logan was pacing around the school, feeling antsy. It was hard, going from desperate fights and struggles back to casual living, liking slamming on the brakes and slowing down from 80mph back to 20 mph in five seconds; it left you feeling… off, somehow. He spotted Wesley heading towards the front gate, and jogged over to catch up with the guy.

"Hey, where you headed?" He asked. Wesley nodded towards the gate.

"Gotta go get my van." He said. "There's a bus station a few miles away, it'll take me back to the Punisher's neighborhood. Thought I'd walk, get some air, relax."

"Oh, yeah, that." Logan said. "Surprised you don't just ask Scott to fly you over." Wesley smiled briefly.

"Do you know how expensive it is to operate a SR Blackbird?" The younger man asked. "Costs a ton."

"Guess so." Logan said. "I was thinking aboot leaving, myself, anyway."

"I'm back on active ARGUS duty in… mmm, about nine days or so." Wesley said. "A joyous two months of guarding sensitive storage facilities or people. Last time I ended my term posing as a nephew who moved in with his uncle for a few days."

"And really…" Logan said pointedly for him to continue.

"And really my 'uncle' was being threatened by some gang members, and hired our agency for protection. Threat level was concluded to be minimal, which was how a rookie like me ended up assigned to it, along with two other operatives. What the man did to tick them off, we never were told." Wesley said. "Someone did break in one night, though."

"What happened?" Logan asked. Wesley shrugged.

"I was right in the next room stalking around in the dark, when the guy started messing with the lock, so I had a few seconds of warning. As soon as the door broke open I shot at him once, with a .380 auto pistol." Wesley sighed. "What a mess. The guy ran off like Bugs Bunny, and we never found him. No blood anywhere, but we couldn't find any trace of where the bullet went, so we still don't know if I hit him or not."

"Does something like that usually happen?" Logan asked.

"Naw, I've worked for ARGUS for three years, and been in… five situations, where lethal threats presented themselves." Wesley shrugged. "It's best when nothing exciting happens."

"Yeah." Logan agreed. For you, anyway. With his healing factor, fights were merely a violent test of his own abilities. He knew how good he was, but it was still satisfying to walk away the victor.

"Be seeing ya." Wesley said. In another few minutes, he was past the front gate and out of sight. Logan meandered his way to the gym. It wasn't especially enormous, but it had a weight room, an area with mats for whatever, a small indoor basketball court, and a medium sized indoor pool.

"Wolvie!" Someone said. Logan turned to see Jubilee running over, panting. "Whatcha doing?"

"Nothing much." Logan said. "You?"

"Practicing." Jubilee said. Logan waited for her to continue.

"Practicing…?" He asked, taking the bait. Jubilee grinned, took a few steps away, then started doing back flips, stopping twenty feet away. He was impressed. "Not bad."

" 'Not bad?' " Jubilee repeated. "Dude, my gymnastic skills are about as good as your fighting skills." She turned her back on him, looking towards the wall. Logan rolled his eyes at what he perceived to be her pretended hurt. Jubilee suddenly charged straight at the wall, ran up it, then flipped backwards while creating sparkling fireworks around her, landing poised and balanced, six or seven feet away from the wall.

"Okay." Logan admitted. "You're good. Very good."

"I've asked three gymnastic teachers, and they all three agreed that with a few years of hard training, I could be on the Olympic level." The girl said. "I'd say, yeah, that makes me qualify as 'good'."

"Why don't cha?" Another voice said. Logan glanced back to see Remy walking up. Apparently everyone was ending up at the gym, Logam mused.

"Ehh, it's just not for me." Jubilee said. "Olympics, Training eight hours a day for years. Entering those contests also cost a lot, and you have to travel all over the country. It adds up to tens of thousands of dollars, and sponsorships are really hard to get. Gymnastics are really fun, but they're not my life."

"Hmm." Remy said. "Still, you should compete. You've got trainin', I see. Why waste it?"

"Maybe." Jubilee shrugged.

"Heh, Logan, are Canadians any good at basketball?" Remy asked, nodding towards the basketball court. "Or do ya just play croquet?"

"Better than you, Gumbo." Logan shot back.

"Let's see 'bout dat." Remy said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rogue stared blankly at the page of the textbook, half trying to find the answer to why nations were inherently more stable than empires and what the main differences where, even though the assignment wasn't due for another three days, since classes had been canceled. She couldn't concentrate for anything. Forget it. She tossed the book down, put her sandals on, and took off down the hallway. She paused at the kitchen, but didn't feel like eating anything. Swimming didn't feel appealing, either, but when she got to the gym, she found Remy and Logan playing basketball, with Jubilee practicing some gymnastics.

"Looks like fun!" Rogue said, as Gambit bounced the ball off Logan's forehead before scoring easily. Unbreakable or not, Wolverine wasn't the most agile person around. Jubilee came over.

"Talk aboot aggressive baskitbool! Bounced the ball off the toque of 'is 'ead, you did!" Jubilee laughed, mimicking a heavy Canadian accent.

"We'll see how good you at this you are, in a minute!" Logan growled.

"Two on two?" Jubilee asked both the men. "That is, if you wanna play?" She said, looking at Rogue. "Me and Wolvie against you and Remy."

"Ehh, maybe." Rogue said.

"Hey, this is a private match," Logan barked. Jubilee swiped the ball away from Gambit and threw it in the basket.

"Dat's cheatin!" Remy said, feigning anguish. "Chere, you gotta help Gambit out!"

"Aww, fine." Rogue said. "No claws or fireworks or exploding objects, right?"

"That's a great idea!" Remy said, grinning, while blocking Jubilee from throwing the ball. "Play a game of hot potato!" His hand brushed the basketball, which started to glow. Jubilee let out a shriek, dropped it, and jumped back, letting Gambit snatch it up, reabsorb the energy, and hurl it into the basket.

"Rotten cheater!" Jubilee accused.

"Dis 'aint coming from da girl who double teamed me a moment ago, is it?" He asked, laughing.

"Hey Jubes," Logan said. "Two can play at that game…"

"Let's not go wild here, people." Rogue said. The other three ignored her comment…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In Xavier's Office, doors shut and windows closed…

"So, now for the million dollar question." Jean said.

"How are we changing things around here in response to Stryker's attack." Scott finished. "It's been on all our minds, Jean."

"But none of us are yet to propose a serious and practical solution." Storm said, then added off handedly, "And I spoke with the repairmen. They'll send a crew over tomorrow."

"It's not exactly an easy problem to solve." Charles said. "For starters, I feel we need a strong security system. Clearly, having capable persons around is a great help, but not the entire answer."

"I know how you feel, but I don't think we can gain much advantage without turning this school into a fortress." Scott said, shrugging, but still turning and writing on the whiteboard, Strong security system?

"Or a prison." Storm pointed out, following what Scott had said.

"We should expand the lower levels." Jean said. "And harden it. We had no clue that the raid was

even a possibility. Who knows what else lies ahead?"

"We have that shelter a few miles away." Scott pointed out. "Wouldn't it be redundant to turn the lower levels into a bunker?"

"That shelter is a single fifty square foot room and a tiny restroom. Living in there for over a day would be absolute misery." Jean said. "Wasn't it originally a cold-war bomb shelter? Besides, we had that thing before Forge carved out the lower levels for us. It's got no real point now."

"I agree." Xavier said. "It would take a large force to keep the school safe in harsh times, but we could easily keep the lower levels secure. I think adding sleeping quarters and stocking needed supplies would be something we should definitely take into consideration. That shelter is for an emergency only. We could make the lower levels quite livable, even for an extended period of time."

Scott wrote on the board, Expand and harden lower levels, stock with enough food/water/supplies to last min. six months?

"Yeah, we should do that." Storm commented. "Perhaps an small armory with weapons and body armor wouldn't hurt, either? You never know. What if some sort of x gene neutralizer was developed? We'd be in dire straits. Not only that, but one day our powers might not be enough."

"I see you're filling in for Wesley's absence." Jean said. "If we do add an armory, we might as well ask him what we should stock it with, since none of us here are especially knowledgeable about small arms."

"Which brings up those three." Scott said, groaning. "Remy, Logan, and Wesley. What do we do with them? They know everything."

"You're forgetting about Kurt." Storm pointed out.

"No, he went back to that church he was staying at, in Boston." Scott replied. "This morning, remember? He said there was some project he told the reverend he would help out with and had to go."

"Yeah, but he could bamf back here in five minutes." Storm said.

"Hire them? We could use three more x-men." Jean broke in, going back to the original topic. "Logan could teach physical education, strategy, something like that. Remy would teach French, and whatever else he could. Wesley, we would have to straight out hire him for security and all around help wherever needed. He's not a teacher."

"And he's not about to start taking classes here, either." Xavier said. "Still, he could be a help to have around, especially if something should happen again. With training, all three of them could become valuable x-men. Regardless, I doubt we have any reason to fear them leaking information, whether or not we try to hire them."

"Do you really think any of the three of them would want to work here?" Scott asked. "Logan, he might accept, since he's probably got nothing better do. The other two, though, they have their own lives elsewhere, in other parts of the country. Why would they drop that and move here?"

"Wesley and Remy seem to have already acclimated to life around the school." Xavier commented. "Just ask Rogue or Jubilee."

"Rogue and Gambit seem quite smitten with each other," Jean conceded. "Gambit might accept to get to stick around while keeping an income. But Wesley and Jubilee… I think you're jumping to conclusions there."

"He might not be." Scott sighed, rubbing his temples. "I heard Jubilee tell Kitty that he asked her out. Friday, they're going out to dinner and a movie."

"You know what the statistics say." Ororo commented. "Around, what, 40% of people meet their spouses at colleges? That's a high number."

"We're a prep school." Jean pointed out. "Mostly."

"Yeah." Storm said. "But we've got the same accreditation as a college. Of course, that's under a different official name."

"Let's get back on target, people." Charles said, sensing the discussion was drifting. "We still have to contact the President and explain what happened. Regardless of who caused it to happen, a military compound was destroyed, along with a colonel and his men."

"This would probably be a lot easier if Wesley had not killed Stryker." Scott icily pointed out.

"Stryker would have likely escaped if Wesley had not accompanied Logan." Xavier calmly replied. "Not to mention that we might not learned of the compound's impending detonation in time, if he hadn't been with us."

"Whatever." Scott said tiredly. Xavier didn't take the rudeness personal. Just as he himself was feeling guilty for succumbing for the illusion Stryker's son Jason had given him, Scott seemed to blame himself for not being able to defeat the ambush at Magneto's plastic prison. "Why don't we just leave well enough alone and stay away from the White House? The President hasn't declared anything solid yet about the brief crisis, and they claimed a warhead malfunction was what toasted that base."

"It hasn't been a thirty-six hours yet," Xavier said. "Officially, they are currently investigating what happened. It could very easily become another dire situation for us."

"I could take Kitty and check out Stryker's office in Washington DC." Jean volunteered. "They usually don't have very high security. Most likely, they don't even know anything has happened to him yet."

"Do that." Xavier said. "But don't take any risks."

"If you can't find any documents or other proof, just rip the hard drives out of the computers." Scott said. "We'll examine it here. Decrypting them won't take long." Jean acknowledged, then started walking to the door.

"We haven't made a decision yet about the other issues yet." Storm said. "I feel we should do so now."

"All in favor of expanding, stocking, and fortifying the lower levels, raise your hand." Charles said. All four of them raised their hands. "Motion passed. I'll arrange for it to begin as soon as possible." That'll put him out a million, maybe a million and a half dollars? Jean pondered. Thank God for Charles's deep pockets. While it wasn't on paper, the man had close to seven hundred million United States dollars stashed around the globe in cash and precious metals, on top of his bank accounts, roughly another twenty million.

"I guess we'll be hiring Forge and his crew again?" Scott asked. Forge was the technical genius behind the underground hanger and the danger room, as well as the various modifications to the Blackbird. His crew contracted around the world, doing construction that required both great skill and complete secrecy.

"Most likely." Xavier replied shortly. "All in favor of offering Logan employment here as a teacher and for security reasons, raise your hand." Three of them raised their hands. Scott groaned, then followed, thanks to a pointed look from Jean.

"Don't worry, Scott." Ororo said, laughing. "I'm sure you two will be close friends in a few months."

"We are going to regret this." Scott warned. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Motion passed. I prepare an offer and give it to him… soon." Charles said, not sounding like he was looking forward to it.

"Soon?" Jean asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"When he seems open." The Professor clarified. Then again, he might just burst out laughing at the idea of being an x-man, Charles mused. Logan had already stated after the Liberty Isle incident that he didn't want to stick around. "Timing can be crucial. All in favor of offering Remy LeBleau a employment here, raise your hand." Repeat performance. "Motion passed."

"I thought we were considering training Peter to be an X-Man." Scott commented.

"All in favor of offering Wesley Judson employment here, raise your hand." Xavier said. He glanced around, knowing what he would see "Motion passed."

"Three new X-Men." Storm mused. "This will be interesting."

"Fifty bucks says one at least of them turns the offer down flat." Scott proposed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wesley yanked the tarp off the van and unlocked it. The armored vehicle was formerly owned by ARGUS and had been used to transport VIP's, until it had been vandalized and ARGUS decided to scrap it. Someone had used a crowbar to break the hood open, then had fun on the engine and other workings with a small blowtorch. Wesley had paid them four thousand dollars for the van, then another twelve thousand to have it restored to working order. From a hundred yards away the vehicle looked like an ordinary work van, like what a painter would use. Anyway who got a good look up close would notice the bulkiness, along with the conspicuous plating over several areas. _At least it doesn't looks like a Brinks armored car. _Wesley mused as he opened the door. A small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. It had been stuck between the door and the frame.

WJ

_Something might happen at the Stark Industries Industrial Headquarters in New York City, this Sunday the 21st, 11:45 am. There's a package with a level IIIA vest and a ticket for a morning tour next to your front left tire. Bring both items, but no weapons or solid armor, the metal detectors will catch anything you try to smuggle in._

_FC_

Frank Castle? Wesley tossed his coat in the van then dropped flat, retrieving the package from under the car. Level IIIA was the best protection soft kevlar armor would provide, stopping pistol rounds, shotgun rounds, and most submachine gun fire. For protection from rifle fire, ceramic or steel plates were required. Wesley revved the engine and drove off, disturbed by the note. The Punisher literally waged war on crime organizations, routinely being outnumbered ten to one and walking away the sole survivor. What could he possibly need help for, especially at Stark Industries?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hope the chapter was enjoyable. If you're feeling gracious, please leave a review.


	31. Tying loose ends

Chapter 31, here it is. On a personal note, I got my SAT scores, for my first taking of it. (There won't be a second taking, not for me.) Math, I did rather poorly, a 470, making my percentile 35%. Writing, that turned out okay, 550, 69% percentile. Critical Reading turned out very well, though. I scored 730, making my percentile 97%. Scores were out of 800 possible points and the percentile was what percentage of the whole student body you did better than.

Enough about that. Review responses, then the chapter.

**Christy,** I'm glad you like the plot twist, and we'll see how the three react to the job offers. It's funny how when you're writing, the characters almost take life and you can't really force them to do just anything. I'm not completely sure yet what responses Professor X will get.

**Wanda** **W**, or should I say Professor W.? Seriously, the reviews you leave are amazingly professional and thorough, making your compliments a prize to earn. Yes, I said that before, but it still surprises me every time. Thank you for the review and the high praise, and I hope you like this chapter as much as the last one.

**Freegirl**. It's been a while! I'm happy to see you're back, and yes, there will be crossover with Iron Man and Tony Stark will be showing up in the near future. I'm really looking forward to writing it and I think the readers will enjoy it a lot.

Now, on with the show. By the way—and I totally mean this—I really did intend to have this chapter posted sooner. Honest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wesley reached a booted foot out and nudged the door shut, dropping the package on the bed, groaning. It hadn't even been a day yet, and already the note Frank Castle left him was stressing him out. His chest felt tense, as if he was in the middle of a boxing match. _What does he think is going to happen?!_ Whatever it was, it was probably something insanely dangerous if Castle himself decided to ask for help. Wesley took a folding knife out of his coat pocket and sliced the tape off the package, then proceeded to dump the vest out, the ticked fluttering onto the sheets next to it. It was a fairly standard concealed wear vest, made to fit fairly tightly. This one was solid white, which would make it easier to hide. He rapped a knuckle against the front chest panel. It felt strong, reassuringly so.

Someone knocked on the door, making Wesley's hand jerk away from the vest in surprise.

"It's open," He called.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_At a café, somewhere in New York…. _

Jennifer walked over to the man, pad in hand.

"What'll it be?" She asked. The man didn't move. "Hello?" She asked. The guy looked in his mid-thirties, shaved head. The only thing that stood out on him was the large bruise on his cheek and a swollen nose.

"What!?" The man suddenly seemed to wake up. He looked around rapidly a few times. "How'd I get here?"

"Uh, you **walked **in here a minute ago, like everyone else." Jennifer said. "Look, If you don't know what you want to order, I'll come back." The man jumped up, knocking his chair back, and ran out the door.

"Weirdo." Jennifer muttered, picking the chair back up.

XXXXX

Xavier watched as the man ran out of the café, panicked, unable to remember the last several days of his life.

"Did it work?" Scott asked, from the driver's seat of the car. Xavier nodded, and Scott started the ignition. The Mercedes came to life, and they headed back to the school. They couldn't have released the soldier, considering what he knew, so Xavier had simply erased the man's recent memories: the last week of his active duty under Stryker's command, the raid on the school, and getting captured by Gambit.

"It's a relief to have that done." Xavier commented. "A step closer to putting things back in order."

"Yeah. One thing at a time." Scott said. "Let's hope that it's going this well for Jean and Kitty in DC."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The door opened to reveal none other than Jubilee.

"Hey!" Jubilee said. "You're back! How'd it go?"

"Considering I was just picking up my van… it went fine." Wesley said, smiling. "Nothing exciting was supposed to happen."

"You'll never guess what I heard Scott and Jean talking about!" Jubilee said.

"Bobby froze the pool while people were swimming in it?" Wesley asked dramatically. "Scott gave Logan some arsenic laced beer?"

"Nope. They were talking about hiring you!" Jubilee said. "To be on staff here. I think they're going to give you a job offer, like, tomorrow!" Wesley groaned, flopping down on the bed.

"Is that not good?" Jubilee questioned, walking over.

"I don't… think I could survive living here." Wesley said. "Seriously. Since I got here, I've almost gotten killed multiple times. Divine intervention, that's the only reasonable explanation to why I'm still breathing."

"Oh, you mean about the last month or so?" Jubilee said. "It's not usually like that. Really. It's, like, the first time stuff like that has happened around here." She picked up the vest experimentally. "Heavy."

"It's got to be." Wesley said. "Not only does it have to stop bullets from punching holes in the wearer, it has to provide a cushion, so the bullet's sheer power doesn't make an artery or a kidney explode."

"That makes sense." She said. "What's getting shot feel like?"

"With a vest or without?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, man, that's right, you been shot both ways!" Jubilee laughed. "A bullet magnet."

"That's not funny!" Wesley retorted as he sat up, trying to keep a straight face and failing badly. "Why am I laughing?" He wondered aloud on afterthought. Jubilee picked up the tour ticket.

"Stark Industries," Jubilee read. "Neat. I heard they have this awesome cafeteria. Is it a company tour, going there?" A brief look of guilt flashed across his face and disappeared. No way was he getting the X-Men involved in Castle's mess, and especially not Jubilee, of all people.

"No, it was a gift." Wesley said, smoothly. "Not really looking forward to it, but if I don't go, someone's going to be ticked."

"Why aren't you looking forward to it?" Jubilee asked. "It's an great tour. They even make guns and stuff like what you're interested in, don't they?"

"After his getting kidnapped by the Ten Rings, he refuses to sell anything like that stuff to civilians like me. They used to sell body armor, semi-auto rifles, some really great shotguns and handguns, and now they will only sell to government agencies. Even there, they're got berserk on rules and purchaser 'accountability'. " Wesley said. "Kinda ruins the fun of seeing all that neat technology when you can't purchase any of it."

"I guess so." Jubilee said agreed, getting up. "Anyway, will you consider it?"

"Consider not dreading the tour?" Wesley asked, briefly confused. "I can try." Jubilee smacked him on the arm.

"You know what I meant!" Jubilee said. "Consider working here! You'd love it."

"I'll think about it." Wesley agreed. Jubilee gave him a look as if she thought he was brushing the request off. "I will pray about it, consult my friends, family, mentors, **and** think about it." Wesley said solemnly.

"That's more like it." Jubilee said, leaving the room. "See ya later."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Washington, DC. _

The darkness was complete and total, enveloping them completely. _Thank God we didn't have to go through a graveyard._ Jean mused.

_Almost there._ Kitty thought loudly. In their current position, telepathy was their only way to communicate. They were infiltrating the target building at the most unguarded spot; underground. They would enter at a basement level, and find their way to Stryker's offices from there. It was a much more complicated plan than Charles simply forcing his way into the building via telepathy, but they would avoid being recorded by roughly twenty surveillance cameras and being seen by dozens of people. _Hold on, I'll make sure it's clear. _Kitty told her. Jean hadn't even detected that they were standing still. To her relief, Kitty pulled her forward and they were in a lit room. Jean tried to take a step, when she noticed; her chin was four inches above the floor.

"Can we get up?" Jean whispered.

"What? Who's there?" A man's voice asked. Kitty yanked her towards an bookshelf, and a second later they were peering out over the tops of several large record keeping books. A pair of pants and shoes came into view, walking around, searching. Jean focused with her telepathy, and the man froze. Moving slowly, he walked back to his chair, sat down, and promptly went to sleep.

"It's clear." Jean whispered, reading the man's memories. "This room has no other people and no active surveillance equipment." Kitty phased them up and out of the ground. Jean took out a palm-sized pda and accessed the 3d map. "Okay. We're here, and we need to get to there…"

_Ten minutes later… _

"That went… well. I guess. Thought I as gonna have a heart attack at one point." Kitty said, clicking the light on. She looked around the room. "Nice. This is, like, better than the Professor's office." She pondered for a moment. "How much do you think this cost to furnish?"

"A lot." Jean said quietly. "I'll check those cabinets, you work on the computer. Stay quiet." Kitty hooked the pda up to a terminal, and a program on the device bypassed the password requirements on the computer.

"There's only three other offices in this little wing," Kitty said. "We're pretty much by ourselves." The area also had a bulletproof glass security door that required a key card to open. Kitty phased her head through the door, and peeked down the hallway. The transparent security door was in sight, but no one else.

"Let's be safe anyway." Jean replied. She slid open a drawer, and started thumbing through manila folders. Shipments of weapons, committee reports, budget allocation sheets, amid the endless rows of papers. The tapping on the keyboard stopped suddenly.

"Whoa." Kitty said. "You'd better take a look at this."

"What is it?" Jean asked, walking over, a folder in one hand. Her eyes flickered over the computer screen. "Is that…?"

"I think so." Kitty said, scrolling down the alphabetically arranged list. "It's a list of mutants living in the United States. He's got several thousand names here. Senator Kelly's list supposedly only had a hundred names. Where'd Stryker get this?" She paused for a moment, then clicking a few times, getting to the "P" section. "They even have me on here!" She scowled, seeing her own name.

"Can you erase it?" Jean questioned.

"I seriously doubt he's the only person with this list." Kitty said. "One colonel couldn't compile a list this extensive without a lot of help." She clicked on a name, and a detailed profile opened. "Man… he's got everything listed here. Age, residence, place of employment, physical condition, whether they own firearms or not, magazines they subscribe too… "

"Remove this computer's memory board and hard drive." Jean said. "We need to hurry up."

"Why?" Kitty asked. Down the hall, a door opened and several voices could be heard. Kitty removed a screwdriver from her belt and started opening the computer up. Jean didn't bother to respond to the question, the answer obvious.

"Change of plans. Slow down, act calm." Jean said. She picked up two pads of paper off the desk and handed one to Kitty.

"Can't you turn the light off?" Kitty whispered.

"You can see the light under the door from the hallway." Jean said. "Wouldn't work. Trust me." Footsteps neared, and the door opened to reveal a low-ranking Marine, undoubtedly working security, and another man a few yards off, who was heading over to another office.

"Excuse me, this area is restricted." The marine said, a hand on his sidearm. "May I see some identification?" Jean held up the piece of paper, focussing with her telepathy.

"Special Agent Gibson, CIA." She said. In their minds, she wasn't holding up a pad of paper, she was holding up a CIA identification badge. "And this is Special Agent Kitteredge." She said, indicating Kitty. "We're conducting an investigation concerning Colonel William Stryker."

"Do you have a search and seizure warrant?" The Marine asked, taking his hand off the pistol, a fairly powerful .45acp caliber 1911 style handgun, the Marine Corp's standard issue sidearm. Standard magazine held seven rounds, and with the relatively ineffective full metal jacket ammunition they were required to use, had roughly 70% chance of one-hit incapacitation on an unarmored man.

"Yes, I do." Jean said. She picked up a piece of notebook paper off a shelf and handed it to the man, keeping an illusion on front of his eyes. He read it over.

"Alright, this appears in order." He said, handing it back. "I assumed that a search would have been announced."

"Normally, yes, but these are special circumstances." Jean said. "Carry on." The soldier left. The other man had vanished into one of the offices. Jean shut the door, letting a breath out with relief.

"Done." Kitty said, holding up two rectangular shaped computer parts. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah." Jean said, taking several folders out of the drawer. "Nice work, by the way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shorter than some other chapters, but it's finally posted. If you guys would like, the story can jump straight to the Iron Man crossover instead of having one or two more chapters before then.


	32. Dropping in

Chapter 32. In just one or two or maybe three more chapters, we'll be heading off to Stark Industries!

Review responses…

**Wanda W.** Thanks for the review, very much.

**Cass of the East**. Wow. It's been two years! Glad to hear from you, and I'm happy you like the story.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"-for your mercy is eternal and your love everlasting, o Lord." Kurt prayed quietly. "Please show us the path you would have us walk. Guide us in these troubled times, Lord."

_Kurt. _A silent voice said to him. Kurt froze for a moment, surprised.

_Kurt, this is Charles Xavier. I'm using telepathy to communicate with you remotely. You've done a great deal that helped us set things right, but we need your help for the final part. It should be fairly simple, no violence or danger involved. Would you be willing to assist us once more? _

"Yes." Kurt said without hesitation. "I vill help you." His thoughts echoed his words, trying to respond clearly.

_Thank you, my friend. _

"I'll be back at the school in half a hour." Kurt promised. BAMF!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Wednesday, 6.30pm EST… _

"Logan!" Jean called, spotting him heading to the garage. "We need a some help with a little thing."

"I've got a bad feeling about this." Logan said. "And I'm not even a telepath."

"Don't worry." Jean said, grabbing his arm and trying to lightly tug him towards the elevators to the lower levels. "We've planned everything out. But your presence is needed."

"Just my presence?" Logan asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"Just your presence." Jean confirmed. "Oh, and, you'll need to wear that uniform again."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Attention, please." Professor Xavier announced over the intercom. "I will be going on a brief errand with Mr. Summers, Mrs. Grey, Ms. Munroe, and Logan. We should be back in less than three hours maximum, but while we are gone, Peter is in charge." The brief message ended, leaving the kids somewhat baffled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, it's confirmed that it was an inside attack." The President said, flipping through several sheets of papers.

"Yes sir. Someone triggered heavy explosives and destroyed the base from the inside," The Secretary of Defense said. "The explosives were in multiple locations around the base, detonated simultaneously. The primary charge was here-" he tapped part of a diagram of the base, "and several smaller charges here, here, and here." He said, pointing to several other areas.

"How much explosives are we talking about?" The President asked, looking at the photos. Rubble and dust where a military bunker once stood. That location had supposedly been hard enough to withstand an artillery strike.

"With C4 or similar plastic explosives, stuff people could make in a basement? It might take a full ton, maybe two, to do that. We think it was RQX-71, around three hundred pounds worth." The Secretary of Defense said.

"That doesn't fit with Magneto's style, though." Another cabinet member commented. "Not at all."

"We **are** still assuming it was him." The President said. "Unless we find proof it wasn't." He studied the report in silence for a several more moments. Five seconds had passed when it dawned on him that none of the other men had spoken. He looked up.

They were frozen, like statues. Their eyes were open, the Secretary of Defense had his mouth open slightly as if to say something, the Secretary of State looked like he was turning to look at a frozen aide who had been walking towards them a few seconds earlier…

The President stared at them, baffled, but retaining his calm. Outside, the blue sky suddenly twisted and raged, growing dark in mere moments, lightning angrily jumping from cloud to cloud. He leaned back and shifted the seat to look out the window, half expecting to see a crowd of mutants approaching. The lights flickered briefly, then died. He reached under his coat and took out a loaded snub-nose .357 magnum revolver, icy fear starting to grip him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. President." A voice said politely. The President turned back from looking out the window, revolver in hand. In the darkened Oval Office stood a group of people. Six, he counted, four of them dressed in identical black uniforms. The fifth was in a wheelchair, and the sixth… the sixth was **him**, the one who had tried to kill him.

"I know you." The President said evenly, addressing the man in the wheelchair. "You're Charles Xavier." Xavier had made multiple speeches around the capital, concerning education, child welfare, and mutant rights.

"Indeed I am." The man said. "And these are my X-Men."

"What do you want?" The President demanded flatly, carefully showing no fear. One of the 'x-men', a short man, smirked briefly, as if amused by his bold words.

"To maintain peace and order." Xavier said. "I know you are on the verge of using an executive order to require mutant registration, and you will use the destruction of the military compound on Lake Alkali as the reason."

"It was mutant doing, wasn't it?" The President asked. "Cause and effect."

"I'm afraid you are unaware of the complete truth." Xavier said. Lightening flickered, casting eerie shadows in the room. Another one of his 'x-men' stepped forward, a woman with red hair, and placed several manila folders down on the table, then put a… a computer part, a hard drive, down next to it.

"These files and this hard drive came from the office of Colonel William J. Stryker." She said. "They have not been changed or modified in anyway." The President picked up the file with one hand and flipped it open. Inside were diagrams, plans… he could barely see. He slowly placed the revolver down on the desk with a small _tap_ and took a small penlight out of a drawer.

"We were indeed involved in the actions at the now-destroyed military compound." Xavier said. "I and one of my x-men were kidnapped and taken there. My remaining X-Men and several of my friends found out where I was being held and came to rescue me, using force to enter the base. However, we did not destroy the compound, and the deaths of the men stationed there was not our intent in the least." He didn't add that they thought Stryker himself did it. Truth or not, they didn't have sufficient evidence, and it would sound like a blatant lie.

"You do realize that I had no knowledge of this?" He asked, indicating the folder.

"I know. That is precisely the reason of this meeting." Xavier said. "To prevent grave mistakes from being made, on anyone's part."

"Then you also know how I respond to threats." The President said coldly.

"This isn't a threat, Mr. President. It's an invitation, a calling." Xavier said smoothly. "Perhaps the first step in a path towards lasting peace. Mutantkind isn't going to vanish into the night, Mr. President." Thunder boomed, making him pause for a moment. "Please consider your options carefully, Mr. President. Good day." Lighting flashed, making the President wince and shield his eyes briefly.

"Of course." The Secretary of Defense agreed, as if he had never paused. "It's the only logical conclusion." The electrical power returned, restoring full light. Several personnel looked up briefly as the lights flickered, then steadied. Outside, the clouds melted away, and the afternoon sun beamed into the room. The aide finally handed the Secretary of State the paper he had been holding.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"He acted pretty bold." Jean observed. Logan chuckled.

"You shoulda smelled the fear on him." He laughed. "He hid it well, thought, gotta hand him that."

"Let's hope Peter, Remy, and Wesley have everything under control at the school." Storm commented.

"They're fine." Logan said, snorting at the thought that something might have gone wrong at the institute. "The kids like Peter, Remy's probably off trying to take advantage of Marie, and Wesley, he's the sort that bends over backwards to keep other people happy."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing." Jean said mildly. "You could learn a thing or two from him."

"Yeah, like how to be a wimp." Logan shot back, feeling irritable.

"If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably vith all men." Kurt said, speaking for the first time in minutes. "Romans 12:8." He added. Logan fell silent.

"Think it'll work?" Scott asked from the pilot's seat several moments later. "The talk with the President, I mean." He clarified.

"Only time will tell." Charles said tiredly, closing his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Here's the chapter. My apologies if it seems a bit rushed, I'm feeling a little antsy and want to tie up these ends quickly and move on.


	33. Weekend

Chapter 33.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Friday afternoon…_

Scott watched as the repair crew drove off. The windows and doors were fixed, along with the shot up woodwork.

"Happy to see them go?" Jean teased, leaning against his shoulder.

"Happy to have that behind us." He said, putting an arm on her shoulder. "That whole mess over with."

"Just in time for the weekend, too." She said, smiling. "And Forge won't be here until next Wednesday."

"A few days of peace and sanity." Scott summarized. "It's almost scary, how much we live for the weekends."

"It's just because we had such an awful week." Jean said. "Come'on, lets go relax at the pool or something, let Ororo and the Professor handle things for a little while."

"Sounds good." Scott agreed, a little less tenseness in his voice.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Later that day…_

"You know, this is kinda weird, what I'm about to ask you. Very weird." Jubilee said, looking serious. Wesley took his eyes off the road briefly to glance at her, wondering what she would say. "You up to it?"

"Shoot." Wesley said, mentally running down a list of bizarre questions she might have in mind.

"Where're you from?" She asked, bursting out laughing.

"How's that weird?" Wesley asked, smiling.

"It's just, together we've escaped a school being raided by the military, took refuge briefly at a hideout of your pal Frank Castle, the most dangerous man alive, according to the FBI, evaded the police and attacked a US army base, now we're out on a date, and I realize I know only a teeny tiny little bit about you." Jubilee said. "We did talk after leaving the Punisher's lair, but that was you asking me questions about me and such."

"I suppose this could be considered weird, what we went through." Wesley agreed. "But you know plenty about me."

"No, I know this much-" she held two fingers an inch apart "-about you. You're a Christian, you're a bodyguard, you killed three people at age thirteen to protect your little brother and sister, and you seem just fine, like, going along with whatever crazy stuff gets thrown at you." She paused for a moment before adding, "And you think I'm gorgeous."

"Not lacking any self-confidence, are we?" Wesley said, grinning.

"I am right on all five parts, though?" Jubilee verified, a smirk on her face.

"I didn't say you weren't." He commented. He was silent for a few moments. "Georgia."

"What?" She asked.

"I was born in Chicago, but my parents decided to move to Georgia shortly after I turned two." He explained. "I grew up in the suburbs outside Atlanta."

"You don't have an accent, like Marie does." Jubilee pointed out. "Of course, I don't have a New York accent, but I'm not from New York."

"Atlanta isn't very southern." Wesley said. "Not nearly as southern as Mississippi."

"That's like saying Maine isn't as north as Wyoming." Jubilee said. "Atlanta's way down south."

"Yeah, but due to so many northern people moving there for the weather and for jobs and whatever else they don't have southern accents." Wesley said. "It does really vary a lot. Some towns are really hick, some are very upper-class and developed, and there's not that many miles between them." He clicked the turn signal on and pulled off the main highway, weaving among stores and buildings.

"Which were you from?" Jubilee asked. "Hickville or mansion land?"

"Middle." He shrugged. "My dad worked a computer programmer at an insurance company, my mom took care of us at home."

"Do you get to see them a lot? Your family?" She said. "With how you travel so much for work, I mean."

"I see them every couple of months." Wesley said. "Enough."

"You don't miss them?" She asked, a little surprised. Wesley shook his head.

"There was a lot of stress, the years before I moved out." He said. "My parents were constantly fighting, frequently threatening to divorce each other. It wasn't a very happy place. They wanted me to move back home when I left the navy. I refused, got an apartment several hours away." He ran a hand through his short hair. "A little lonelier, but I was away from all the fighting and backbiting."

"I see." Jubilee commented, as Wesley found a space in the parking lot. "Now I need a random question."

"Like what?" He asked.

"Thinking, thinking." Jubilee stalled. "Do you go to church?"

"Yeah." He said. "Whenever I'm off duty, and back in my neighborhood. Local place, pastor's name is John Fictner."

"What's he like?" She questioned, opening the passenger door and getting out. Wesley joined her a moment later.

"He's... loving. Treats me like part of his family even though I'm rarely in church." Wesley said. "You should meet him sometime. He's very sharp, a great speaker, but very sincere, very real." He gave a short laugh. "I can be gone for six months, show up one Sunday afternoon, walk up to him after the service, and he's like-" Wesley held his arms out and deepened his voice slightly, " 'Man, Wesley, how are you? It's great to see you again! We were just about to head out and get some lunch, can you join us?' The guy resembles Kevin Bacon, if you need a mental picture."

"Pastor Kevin Bacon." Jubilee laughed. "That's a good one." Wesley stepped ahead of her and opened the door.

"After you." He said courteously.

"How chivalrous." She teased, smiling. "Thank you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_In the office of Charles Xavier…_

"Further investigation leads us to conclude that the destruction of the military base at Lake Alkali was the work of the well known mutant terrorist Magneto." The President said to the crowd of reporters. Cameras flashed almost non-stop. "In response I am using executive authority to create a new law enforcement agency, the Mutant Response Division. The Mutant Response Division, or MRD for short, will be the primary force to deal with mutant-related threats other agencies are not equipped to handle, using advanced technology and highly-trained personnel. The agency will be created over the next year and employ roughly fifteen thousand federal agents." He pointed to a reporter who had his hand raised. "Yes?"

"Mr. President, Jack Davis, New York Times." A reporter said. "Rumors were widely circulating on the internet saying you would use this opportunity to put mutant registration in place. Were you considering that?"

"Further study has concluded that mutant registration would be a waste of money and needlessly invade the privacy of countless law abiding citizens." The President said. "It would do little, if anything, to combat the threats mutant criminals pose. I feel the answer is the MDR." More hands shot up.

Xavier muted the television. He could read the details later or see a recording on the internet.

"Huh." Scott said. "MDR. Didn't see that one coming."

"He didn't order registration." Jean pointed out. "That was what we wanted to stop."

"Instead he's created a police force with the sole purpose of fighting us." Storm groaned. "Not much better."

"True, it's discouraging." Xavier said. "But it is a logical answer. And he could hardly afford to look weak by not making some sort of response."

"Yeah." Scott agreed begrudgingly. "Still, this could get very bad."

"Think they'll actually manage to capture Magneto?" Jean asked. "That'd be pretty impressive."

"I rather doubt it," Xavier said, "but they'll probably get a fair amount of chances. This 'MDR' be a new target for his attacks."

"And he'll push them to the limit." Logan commented, walking into the office. "The best, longest lasting solution is to hunt Magneto down and kill him."

"We weren't eavesdropping by any chance, were we?" Jean asked, her eyebrows raised.

"From fifteen feet down the hallway." Logan said. He looked at the Professor, who hadn't responded to his comment. "Seriously, what other solution is there? You kill Magneto and end this mess. That, or you and him play these games until whatever mutants left alive are either wearing crowns or gps ankle bracelets."

"That's one way of putting it." Ororo said unhappily. "You might be right, though."

"The X-Men is a peacekeeping task force, not a society of assassins." Xavier said, a slight edge in his voice. "We are not murderers."

"Who is?" Logan stated. It wasn't question. "That's reality, though, the choice you have to make, whether you want to accept it or not." He didn't bother waiting for a response as he turned and left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I suppose if you try enough times, you might almost win once." Gambit chuckled, looking over his cards. "At least you're not a quitter, I give you dat."

"I'd have won three times by now if you weren't such a cheater." John grumbled.

"You wish I was cheating." Remy shot back. "This is pure, raw talent you're going up against. I played my first hand of this when I was three years old."

"And didn't win your first until age twelve." Bobby laughed. Gambit looked insulted. "Just kidding you."

"I swear, it's like impossible to get good at this." Rogue said, frustration on her face. "It's pure luck, what cards you get." She almost smirked, but managed to stop before anyone noticed.

"Luck works in my favor, _chere._" Gambit said. "But you'll get good at it too, don't worry." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan stalking towards the front door, looking irate. "Wonder what's buggin' him?"

"I doubt he'd tell you if you asked." Marie said, glancing over. "Probably something pretty minor, anyway."

"And if it was major?" Bobby asked.

"We'd have heard him before we saw him." Marie said shortly. She smacked her cards down on the table, grinning. "Royal flush!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Very cheap of me, I know, to rip off the MDR. But what else do you called a mutant fighting law enforcement agency? Seriously? If any of you can come up with a better name, let me know and I'll change it. And no, you are not about to see Wolverine and the X-Men in written form, either, I swear. I just honestly felt that was were the President was headed. He was going to do something, and since the police and FBI and such were just not equipped to deal with such people, he had almost no choice, with Magneto wrecking havoc (fueling a push for anti-mutant action) and the X-Men breathing down his neck against trying to implement mutant registration.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and please leave a review.

Next chapter… off to Stark Industries!


	34. Tours are not fun, either

This chapter is jumping ahead from Friday night to Sunday morning. Various events that happened between chapter 33 and chapter 34 will be told in explanatory flashbacks for the story's sake. So if a paragraph is italicized with no non-italicized content in it, it's one of those flashbacks on what has happened in between this chapter and the last. Oh, and these flashbacks only take up a second or two in the storyline, of course. That is, there's only a second or two between the present moment dialogue taking place before and after a flashback.

Beware of violence in this chapter.

Oh, and review responses.

**Wanda W.**, as usual, thank you for the review.

**RogueNya**, glad you like the chapter and agree that me ripping off the MDR was a necessary evil.

**Emosxdontxlive**. I hate to nitpick, but when you type something in all caps it makes it look like you're shouting. But, as for the reply… I continued and hope you enjoy. Relax. Remember, we're dealing with fanfiction, not missiles, Governator, NOW SCROLL DOWN!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So you decided no, just like that? What happened to the promises of talking to friends and family and praying about it?" Jubilee asked, sounding a little hurt. She seemed to be taking it personal.

"_It's a flattering offer, it truly is." Wesley said, looking at the paper again. "I couldn't ask for a better one, really. Four months off per year, eighty-thousand dollars net salary, ten thousand dollar yearly stipend just to buy whatever weapons and equipment I want… I'm just not sure. I don't know if I'd fit here." He gave a short laugh. "Or survive working here, for that matter"_

"_Think it over," The Professor told him. "I feel confidant that you'd make a great member of the team." _

"I didn't say no." Wesley said. He looked in the bag again and re-examined the items, which were out of Jubilee's sight. There were earplugs, shooting glasses, several bandages and a few packets of Quick-Clot, and a fiberglass knife, invisible to metal detectors. He was already wearing the armor vest. "I'm thinking about his proposal and I'll probably accept it. I just have a lot on my plate right now."

"What are you not telling me?" She asked. There was a hesitant concern in her voice.

"_Did you hear the President's little speech?" Logan asked, leaning against the doorpost. Wesley shook his head. _

"_We just got back half an hour ago." He said. Logan knew that. He had been following the two once they returned, waiting for a chance to talk to Wesley alone. "We weren't listening to the news." _

"_He's making an organization just to fight mutant criminals, going to call it the MRD, the Mutant Response Division." Logan said. "They'll be trying to track Magneto down."_

"_Huh." Wesley said. "I wish them luck." _

"_Which means they'll be investing billions of dollars in studying mutants and preparing to fight them." Logan explained. He didn't sound optimistic. "The men, the bases, that stuff will be in place within a year or two." _

"_Well, it's not registration." Wesley said. "You don't have to worry."_

"_Don't you mean __**we**__ don't have to worry?" Logan asked, eyebrows raised. _

"_Whatever." Wesley said in dismissal. He still in a pretty cheery mood from his date with Jubilee, and didn't feel like discussing politics. _

"_What happens when Magneto pushes them harder? How about in several years, when the next election rolls around, or better yet, if someone assassinates the current dear commander in chief?" Logan asked pointedly. "The government will take it farther. A lot farther. Xavier refuses to see it." _

"_What are you getting at?" Wesley questioned. Logan paused._

"_Magneto, the Brotherhood, they're a problem that ain't going away. Maybe someone needs to deal with it, if the Professor won't."_

"Don't worry about me." Wesley said, trying to sound reassuring. "Just feeling a bit tense, right now. Your number's in my cell phone, I'll call you later."

"Fine, go vanish into the wind." Jubilee said, not taking kindly to the brush-off. She turned to leave. Wesley froze for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Jubes." He said quietly. She paused and glanced back at him. A dozen thoughts ran through his head, and he settled for one. "I am gonna come back."

"Promise?" She asked.

"Promise."

XXXXX

He parked the van, sinking back in his seat. The bag was next to him, and he'd somehow have to figure out how to pocket and carry it all without looking suspicious. Stark Industries was several blocks away, waiting. Wesley glanced at it, then picked up his cell phone, punching in a familiar number.

XXXXX

The ringing echoed through the empty house, making a small conure turn it's head in surprise, letting out a replying squawk . "_Cricket!_" It screeched, saying it's name. The phone repeated twice, before the answering machine picked up.

"Hey, it's me." The voice said. "Is anyone there?" A few seconds passed. "That's right, you guys are at church, or the mall or something." The person continued. "Just… wanted to say I love you guys. Bye." _Click._

XXXXXX

"If you could place any metallic items here, sir." The guard said politely, holding out a small tray. Wesley put his keys on it, then stepped through the metal detector. It didn't beep, and the guard handed him back his keys. Wesley approached the woman at the desk.

"Hi," He said, showing her the ticket. "I'm here for the tour, where should I go?" The woman read over the words on the paper, then pointed over to a small group. Wesley nodded his thanks and walked over. It looked like a standard tour group. A young couple with a toddler and a six-year-old, several middle-aged men and women and a handful of teenagers, and a guy who looked like a professor. Wesley's eyes flickered over the men. _There. _Frank Castle had disguised himself thoroughly to avoid being recognized. He was wearing a realistic looking, sloppy brown wig, nerdy looking glasses with dark, bulky frames, and a baggy red and blue striped t-shirt, along with blue jeans. In his hand was a medium-sized coffee mug with _The Big Apple_ and a picture printed on it. Their eyes met for a moment and Frank gave him a nod of greeting. Shoes clicked loudly on the marble floor, and Wesley turned to see someone walking towards them.

"Time to begin the tour." A woman said cheerfully. She was in her early thirties, a beautiful woman with shoulder-length blond hair. The uniform was also professional and visually appealing, a combination of white and black with several pink stripes. Wesley noticed they also were smart enough to keep it modest for families, with the long-sleeved blouse covering her shoulders, the neckline only going down an inch or so, complete with a skirt that went down to the top her knees. "This way." The woman said, smiling at several of the children, who were bubbling with excitement.

XXXXX

Wesley had to admit it wasn't a bad tour. They had gone through several areas dedicated to showing off Stark's more charitable inventions, such as better medical technology, more advanced crop-growing formulas, and such, each in places with a corresponding theme, such as a hospital room displaying Stark Industries equipment, a garden lush with fruit, and so on.

"You might be interested to know that nearly 10% of US patens awarded over the last five years have gone to Stark Industries and it's scientists." The woman said proudly. "In a moment we'll get to see some of our researchers working on part of the TRACKER project, unmanned, auto-running robots that will be used in fire rescue and dozens of other life-saving operations." They rounded the corner of the space-age designed hallway, and the wall to the left was clear, showing several connected rooms with white-coated scientists using lasers and computers to work on what looked like some sort of circuitry. Castle noted the security both adjacent to the small labs, separated from the hallway by a sturdy-looking metal door with a keypad next to it.

"Up ahead is one of the most popular spots on the tour," the guide said, gesturing towards a twenty-foot tall bronze statue at the end of the hallway. "Feel free to have your picture taken with Iron Man." Several of the teenagers laughed and dared each other to do have their photo taken.

"Is Tony Stark here, on site?" Frank asked curiously.

"I believe so, but his schedule changes so much I'm not completely sure." The tour guide said. Another tourist followed up with the next logical question.

"Will we see him, if he's here?" She asked. Several members of the group perked up at the thought of seeing the billionaire in person.

"We might," The guide laughed. "Mr. Stark likes showing up and surprising people. A few weeks ago he was having lunch in the café that our tour will be stopping at. Even stayed for twenty minutes, chatting with the visitors." A muffled _boom_ could be heard suddenly, sending vibrations through the floor. Warning lights flashed. Just a few yards up ahead, a security wall, made of clear bulletproof glass, descended from the ceiling, isolating them. Wesley started feeling nervous, and looked over at Frank. The man's face was as emotionless, calculating.

"Nothing to worry about, ladies and gentleman, this is just a drill." The guide reassured them. She stood next to the glass wall and observed the scientists, who wore tense expressions and were speaking in hushed voices. The door at the end of the second lab opened, and a man walked in, sporting black combat gear and an TAR-21 assault rifle. Wesley tensed. He had seen online pictures of Stark Enterprise's security team, and their full body armor suits were a purplish color and very different from this man's.

"Hey, where's your identi-" One of the scientists began. The newcomer didn't wait for him to finish, coldly aiming the weapon and gunning the man down. The second scientist in that room bolted, only to collapse into the next room, shot in the back. The tour guide screamed in horror and cowered, the group panicking. Wesley and Frank watched, unmoving, as the killer proceeded to the next room. The security guard leveled his pistol at the man.

"Drop your weapon!" He shouted. The attacker didn't reply, simply squeezing of a burst of full auto fire. Rifle rounds tore into the guard's chest, and he fell.

The last remaining scientist flattened himself up against the glass wall and desperately pleaded with the two watching, ignoring the fact there was nothing they could do.

"Someone, help! Please! Call security!" He begged. The intruder fired a single shot into the man's head, and proceeded into the security booth. Wesley's hand clenched, fear washing over him. The Punisher calmly snapped the lid off the mug and dumped the contents out. Water splashed on the ground, and a snub nose .38 revolver in a small plastic bag fell into his open palm. Without seeming to hurry, he neatly opened the bag, removed the gun, and tossed the mug away. The metal door opened, revealing the killer.

**BLAM!BLAM!** The little revolver spat, and the intruder staggered back, his rifle clanging to the ground as blood poured from a hole in his throat. Frank moved forward instantly, turning and tossing the revolver to Wesley, then smoothly picking up the rifle to engage the two additional men who had followed the first killer into the labs. They opened fire, making the Punisher take cover next to the door. Bullets _spanged_ off the metal walls next to the door as the attackers gained confidence and advanced forward, leaving the safety of cover. Frank shoved the rifle around the corner and blind fired. Fifteen rounds later one of the attackers was dead and the other gasping for breath on the ground, a pool of red spreading around him. The Punisher moved forward, kicking the man's shotgun away and taking his ski mask off. Frank hoisted him up onto the table, grabbing the one of the still-active laser 'arms' that had been finishing circuitry a few moments earlier. Wesley, still just armed with the small revolver, followed him into the lab, watching his back in case of enemy reinforcements.

"Why are you here?!" The Punisher growled, shoving the laser towards the man, making him thrash and squirm, trying to get away. Frank raised a fist and smashed the man on the chest, stunning him. The laser brushed the killer's side, melting the armor vest he was wearing, making him scream in pain.

"We were supposed to take the tourists hostage, to help cover our escape later!" He shrieked. "We knew the police and military wouldn't let us get away with the equipment without hostages in the choppers with us!"

"What equipment!?" The Punisher snarled.

"The Mark 7 power suit Stark keeps here!" He said desperately. "Please, let me live! I just want to go home!" Frank paused for a moment.

"You can go home." He said, yanking the man off the table, sending him sprawling on the ground. "In a box." He raised a booted foot and smashed it down. The sickening _crack_ made Wesley turn in surprise, then quickly look away, his stomach threatening to heave. Frank took a radio off the corpse and started listening as Wesley picked up the shotgun and removed a bandoleer of spare shells from the dead body. On second thought, he removed the masks from the other two dead attackers. Two of the three men were Japanese.

"Who are they?" He asked, staring at one.

"Yakuza." Frank replied, reloading his assault rifle. "A gang called the Eternal Sun. They've been fighting the local mobsters, the Gnuccis, for some time now." He yanked the wig off, tossed the glasses away, and removed the casual shirt. Wesley nodded his approval. The Punisher's 'uniform', if it could be called that, was much more intimidating to enemies than normal cloths.

"Yakuza." Wesley repeated. "Japanese mafia?"

"Yes. And it seems their plans call for an 'iron man' armor suit." He said. "I'm guessing they brought around, eh, a company of troops to seize it. They flew in by chopper and they'll use the cover of hostages to escape."

"I'm a little slow today. How many is a company?" Wesley asked, trying to steady his breathing.

"At least seventy-five men, up to a hundred and fifty." Frank said. He took out a tiny case with earplugs in it. "We'll be busy." Wesley remembered what he had brought and took out the protective glasses and his own earplugs. Castle looked at the glasses and raised an eyebrow.

"I value my eyes." Wesley said, slipping the glasses on, then carefully sticking the wax-like plugs in his ears. "Besides, they taught that in every class I attended. Wear eye and ear protection whenever you go shooting." Frank shrugged.

"Are you good to go?" Castle asked. Wesley nodded. "Then let's move out."

"What about them?" He wondered, pointing to the tour group. The shock had worn off, and the tourists were staring at the duo. Several were snapping pictures. Wesley considered seizing the cameras at gunpoint or something similar, then realized how pointless it would be. If he wanted to fool them that he didn't know the Punisher or something like that, it was far too late.

"We'll be going forward to the wherever these Yakuza came from." Frank said, slinging the MP5 over his back as a spare weapon. "Those people will be fine until security gets here. Leave them."

"Alright." Wesley agreed. "Will we be fine until we run into security?"

"These people are armed and ready to take on SWAT teams." Castle said. "It might be a few hours before all the fighting's over, assuming Stark's security team hasn't been wiped out already. I'll take point, stay eight feet behind me. Be extremely careful."

"Copy that." Wesley said, mentally shifting into professional mode. The two carefully made their way through the next laboratory and exited back into the hallway on the other side of the clear security wall. A few of the tourists shouted after them, but neither responded. Frank paused briefly at the end of the hallway, looking up at the enormous statue.

"Tony seems to have some size issues." He observed dryly. Wesley smirked despite the situation, and they proceeded through the next door

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There's the first part, hope you're all enjoying. You know the next part… click that little button and leave feedback!


	35. Shooting At Stark Industries

Chapter 35. My apologies for the longer than usual wait. I wrote a Resident Evil 5 Alternate ending, with four parts, so this small update was delayed. (If any of you are RE gamers, I'd love a review over the alternate ending.)

My thanks to those who reviewed, you guys are awesome.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_The Xavier Institute, Lounge Area. _

"It's pathetic, nowadays." Jubilee lamented. "You want entertainment, you have to buy dvds. Turn on the tv, you get news, cooking shows, unbelievable stories of people who lived in haunted houses with violent ghosts but for some reason never decided to move… what are we coming too?"

"The end of the world, no doubt." Bobby said dryly, idly flipping through a magazine. "Don't you find bank robberies interesting?"

"Not when they're just showing us pictures of the place it happened at." Jubilee said, staring at the tv screen, boredom on her face as she watched images of a damaged, empty bank vault flash by. "I'd rather see it in progress."

"Like, why are we even sitting here?" Kitty wondered. Onscreen, the view suddenly reverted to the newsroom, where the two commentators were suddenly trying to look alarmed.

"Ladies and gentleman, we've just been informed of a breaking news event." The man said. As if on cue, the woman picked up that thought.

"Stark Industries' New York headquarters has apparently been attacked by terrorists." The woman continued. "Police are securing a perimeter around the compound and SWAT units are being called to the area. We go to the scene, live with reporter Steve Innes." The screen flashed to a man in the streets outside Stark Industries. "Steve, what can you tell us about what's happening?"

"We don't know much yet, but roughly ten minutes ago police received a 911 call from an employee inside the compound saying that armed men were landing in helicopters and several security officers had been killed." The man said. "As we can see, police are responding rapidly and in force. All civilians inside the facility are being evacuated." The camera suddenly turned to catch several vans marked SWAT arriving. "It seems specialized teams are being sent in immediately." The reporter observed as the team members filed out, heavily armed and armored. They waited only a few seconds before going straight into the building, vanishing past the front doors. "The situation must be incredibly urgent. I've seen several instances where SWAT was called in, and they always wait for orders and plan heavily before moving in. As we can see, those two teams just went straight in with almost no talking."

"Well, you're wish came true, sorta." Kitty said. "It's almost a bank robbery in progress." A few seconds passed and she glanced over, wondering why she wasn't getting a response.

Jubilee's seat was empty.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Taptap… tap tap._ In the empty hallway, the sound of the two's footsteps seemed... unnaturally loud. Castle held a fist up, and Wesley paused several yards behind him, looking around warily. Frank peeked around the corner, then motioned for them to continue. Ahead was another slain Stark Security guard, lying in a pool of his own blood in the middle of the hallway. Wesley paused and moved to pick up the dead man's sidearm, but Frank stopped him.

"Stark's guns are all modified now with user-id technology." Castle whispered, shaking his head. "To him, a pistol, to you, a hunk of metal." Wesley must have looked unbelieving, because Frank added, "Go ahead, try it." Wesley grabbed the pistol, aimed down the hallway, and squeezed the trigger. _Click._ Nothing happened. He ejected the magazine—the gun was still loaded. The younger man scowled in disappointment and placed the weapon back next to it's now-deceased owner. The two advanced carefully. They passed several more displays and exhibits meant for the tourists, the hallways eerily empty, devoid of the life Wesley had been expecting.

A _thumping_ noise suddenly drifted towards them. "What's that sound?" He asked, unable to identify it.

"A chopper." The Punisher whispered as they rounded a corner. Sunlight was flooding into the area through enormous windows. Just outside was a balcony, adorned with several benches and a few potted plants… and two Yakuza, one standing guard, the other talking on a radio. Wesley ducked back just before the guard turned around.

"What now?" Frank didn't answer the question immediately, formulating a plan.

"We capture them bothalive,** if possible**." Frank said, stressing the last two words. "We wait 'till neither of them are looking and rush. If they don't notice in time, we take them down quietly. You take the guard, I'll take the chatty guy." He glanced around the corner again. "Keep your weapon ready. If stealth fails, open fire immediately." Castle risked another look, his impatience showing. "Go!"

They darted forward, rushing their targets. Frank simply and quickly walked up behind the Yakuza on the radio and kicked him in the back of the leg, then grabbing him my the shoulder and yanking him back. The man went down on one knee, arms flailing, and Castle finished up the disarm by getting a stranglehold around his neck.

**BLAM! **Frank looked up in time to feel blood splatter on his face. The Yakuza guard collapsed, almost headless.

"Sorry." Wesley said apologetically, wiping the guard's blood off his forehead. "He turned around and was about shoot. I wouldn't have made it." Irritation flickered across Castle's face, then vanished. Wesley took a few steps away and looked over the railing. Six floors below was a small park-like area, probably meant for employees on their break time. Someone had landed a helicopter in the middle of it, and Yakuza were loading several crates of stolen tech onboard the craft.

"Fine." Castle turned his attention to the remaining prisoner, grabbing him and holding him partially over the railing. "Tell me something interesting!"

"Are all Americans this violent?" The Yakuza asked. Frank shoved him a little father over.

"See that part of the chopper blades that looks almost solid, it's going so fast?" He growled. "About a foot from the center, see it? That's were your head's going!" The Yakuza looked horrified.

"Please! I-I was just married three days ago!" The man begged.

"Honeymoon's over." Frank shot back, releasing him. His screams were audible for several seconds, followed by a shift in the sound of the chopper's rotors and shouts. Wesley risked a glance over the railing.

"We need to find a way down." Castle said, thinking through their next steps. "We'll clear out that landing zone and make the jump to that next roof—I think that'll lead us to Stark's experimental labs. Yakuza are probably swarming over that location, and we might meet up with any surviving security team members." Wesley nodded silently. _Hope this tour ends soon,_ he mused.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Seriously," the teenager—'Cannonball' the others had called him—"No one will blame you for saying no. That bike of yours looks like it would fall apart."

"I didn't say no." Logan replied, more than a little irked. "I was thinking for a second. Don't try to twist things."

"Well, let me know before tomorrow. All three of us are each putting $20 in the pot, winner takes all. I understand perfectly you not wanting to race, probably don't have any cash to spare." The arrogant kid smirked, baiting him.

"Wolvie!" A shout came from a couple hundred feet away, closer to the front of the school. Logan groaned. The kid looked from Jubilee to Logan.

"_Wolvie?_" He repeated, laughing.

"Yes?" Logan snapped as Jubilee ran up to them. She didn't take the hint to leave.

"There's a shooting going on at Stark Industries, terrorists or someone attacked it!" She told him urgently. "Wesley's over there!"

"What, did you see him on tv?" Logan asked, rubbing his eyes in exasperation.

"No, I saw he had a ticket for a tour there, today, for just a little while ago!" She said, panting from exertion. "I tried calling his cell phone, he didn't pick up!"

"What do I look like, his father?" Wolverine questioned. "Go ask Wheels, maybe he'll fly you over there."

"I did." Jubilee informed him. "He said he couldn't just 'take the X-Men into a gunfight in front of the media on an if' and said Wesley was most likely fine."

"That's because Wesley probably is fine." Logan explained, trying painfully hard not be harsh. "Xavier isn't going take the X-Men to fight gun battles because there's a very slim chance someone we know might be there."

"Get real! If he was fine we would know by now!" Jubilee protested angrily. "We have to check! If I thought you being attacked by Sabertooth or bleeding out in the middle of the wilderness or something, I'd go looking for you!" Logan groaned again and looked skyward, as if asking God how he could go from vagrant barfighter to someone being asked to go check up on missing boyfriends.

"How do you even expect me to get there?" Logan asked, frustration lacing his voice. "This bike doesn't have license plates on it and my truck got totaled in Canada." Jubilee suddenly grinned, detecting the change.

"With Scott's harley, of course." She replied, holding up a key. Logan paused, staring at the object for several moments, as she laughed and waved it around. Her grin caught on, and he finally broke out in a smile and took it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hope you liked it. I thought it was great opportunity to start working in some more of the Wolverine/Jubilee friendship that was so prevalent in the comics and the 90's cartoon.

Please review; despite whatever number the top may say for total reviews, I notice, read, and appreciate every single review.


	36. Tense Workplaces and Stark Assistance

**RogueNya**, **Freegirl, Cass of the East, evilspoofauthor, **and **Wanda W.**, thanks for reviewing.

Oh, and sorry for the late reply on that request. If I get a chance to smoothly let them make appearances, I'll see if I can include Matt Murdock (Daredevil) or Johnny Storm. (Human Torch.)

This chapter mark's Tony Stark's entry into this little story. (He'll be around for a few chapters, and we'll have dialogue and such, don't worry.) Some more Jubilee/Wolverine friendship building, and Wesley and the Punisher continue in their little battle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Next time, we take the stairs." Wesley said, glancing back at the elevator shaft warily. The Punisher shrugged.

"Logically, security would have locked the elevators down. I would have." He replied, looking a little bit apologetic. "Good to go?" Wesley nodded, clicking the safety off his captured FN SCAR assault rifle. Frank looked around a few times, recalling which way to the park area that the helicopter had landed in. He settled on one direction.

"Let's move." He ordered, striding down the hallway, weapon up and ready. They passed through a set of double doors, then found themselves in a maze of offices and cubicles. Distant gunfire could be heard faintly over the quiet hum of computers and fluorescent lights. _These people must've been evacuated in time, _Wesley speculated, seeing no signs of combat or struggles. His hands felt like they were vibrating. He glanced at them quickly—the flesh under his fingernails had turned a dark purple from the extreme stress.

Castle walked confidently ahead of him, displaying no fear or hesitation. Wesley glanced into several of the cubicles as they walked by. They were identical but different, adorned by the occupant with photos and trinkets ranging from little bronze statues to tiny aquariums. The two chose a door and went through it. Outside was a wide, decorative hallway, lined with two foot wide square marble columns along each side.

"We're almost done here." A voice rang out up ahead. "The files are secured. Send the chopper back, it's clear." Booted feet clomped on a marble floor. Frank motioned Wesley to stay back. He flattened himself behind a column while Frank crept forward and out of sight. Several seconds passed.

"Get over here." Frank called quietly. Wesley rejoined him, noticing the dead body on the floor a few feet away. Frank was next to a door leading out. "We're clearing that landing zone." Wesley peeked out, noting where the rocks and trees were located, along with the Yakuza. Part of the area was paved with bricks and had several tables, roughly shaped like a triangle, with the longest point leading directly up to their doorway. Decorative boulders lined the paved area's perimeter, with trees scattered round. "I count six Yakuza, probably two more out of my line of sight. I'll take up a position at that boulder, first one to the left, and flank them from there, staying on the left side." Frank whispered, risking another look. They only had another ten seconds or so before the dead mobster's friends came looking for him. "You cover me from here. You should be safe enough, and still able to see half the field. Do you have enough ammo?"

Wesley rechecked the weapon and the spare magazines he had seized. "About a hundred and fifty rounds."

"All right. Remember, wait ten seconds after my first shot, or you'll loose your element of surprise." The Punisher directed. He tensed, about to move low and fast.

"Good luck." Wesley offered, adjusting the rifle's stock up to his shoulder. Castle nodded, then darted forward, using a hunched-over run to try to make it to the rock without being spotted.

"It's the Punisher!" One of the Yakuza shouted, seeing the white skull. Frank ducked behind the boulder as gunfire erupted.

"We've got him surrounded!" Another gangster yelled. The other Yakuza started fanning out, trying to flank him on both sides.

Wesley groaned, abandoning their little plan as he peered through the riflescope. The crosshairs settled over the Yakuza farthest to Castle's left and he squeezed the trigger. **BLAM! **The enemy collapsed, making the others scramble back. Frank stepped out from cover and shot another, taking him down before advancing. Several Yakuza managed to get to cover and start shooting at the Punisher, making him dive behind some trees. Wesley quickly aimed and fired rapidly, the barrage of rifle fire suppressing the attackers, keeping their heads down long enough for Castle to move up. The deep thumping of helicopter rotors was audible as a UH-1 Huey suddenly appeared from behind another tower, maybe eight hundred yards away.

"Please be Marines, please be Marines…" Wesley muttered to himself. He peered through the rifle's scope, watching as the side door opened, revealing a Yakuza—with rocket launcher. _You gotta be kiddin me! _Wesley protested silently. "CASTLE! WE GOTTA FALL BACK!" He bellowed, trying to be heard over the gunshots. Castle was still out of sight, fighting the group of Yakuza on the other side of the park. Wesley took a few steps away from cover, trying to spot him. No luck, he was hidden from sight by greenery. The bodyguard gave up trying to find his friend and swung the rifle back up, firing a burst at the chopper, aiming at the gunner. The Yakuza looked straight at him, his attention drawn by the weapon's flashes. "No, no no no no--" Wesley half-screamed in denial, knowing what was about to happen. The small warhead suddenly snaked through the air, leaving a trail of white smoke.

Wesley turned and bolted back down the hallway, slamming himself behind one of the columns ten feet from the door. **BOOM! **The ground trembled violently and the air suddenly became scorching. One hand went up reflexively, verifying that his hair was still intact. He waited three seconds, then backtracked to the wreckage where the doorway had been. The chopper was much closer, now only two hundred yards or so above them. Bursts of gunfire were still erupting on the ground as the Punisher mopped up the Yakuza foot soldiers. Wesley leaned around the corner and aimed for the pilot, hoping the bullets could shatter the protective bubble around the helicopter's cockpit. He squeezed off two shots, ready to duck out of sight again. **BLAM!BLAM! **

**KA-BOOM!**

The chopper exploded, turning into a miniature sun before the burning remains drifted to the ground. Wesley stumbled back and fell down, uncomprehending, his ears ringing despite the plugs in them. A series of smaller explosions followed, detonating several areas of the park. He staggered back to his feet, out into the park. Frank appeared from wherever he had been, looking upward, the white skull on his chest splashed with blood. Wesley's eyes followed, wincing as the sun glinted off the small gold and red shape a fifty yards above them.

Tony Stark. Iron man. He hovered over them for several long moments, then simply turned and flew off, heading elsewhere.

"You… okay?" Wesley asked, trying to steady his breathing. Castle glanced over, then down at himself, as if just noticing the stains.

"Not my blood. I'm fine." He replied evenly, dropping the magazine out of his rifle and slapping a fresh one in. "You good to go?"

"Yeah." Wesley said, sitting down for a moment. "Was that Iron Man? Why'd he leave?"

"It most likely was him." Castle commented, his tone not showing what he thought of the redundant question. "He's probably flying around the facilities, going from one hotspot to the next, wherever the situation is the most critical."

"Nice of him to drop in." Wesley said, slowly reloading his weapon. "He finished off the rest of the Yakuza?"

"There were only two left." Frank informed him. "The chopper could have been a major problem, though." He paused, looking around a few times, his eyes settling on the flaming debris. "Your effort to distract it was helpful."

Wesley's lips curved into a faint smile. The weak complement/thanks meant a fair amount to him, coming from the veteran soldier.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What exactly are you planning on doing when we get there? Logan asked loudly, turning his head so Jubilee could hear him. "It's a big place. Lots of buildings and stuff. Could take hours to find him, assuming he's there."

"Maybe you could smell him out or something." Jubilee hollered, her hands around Logan's chest, holding on tightly—going 70mph on a motorcycle was downright scary when you weren't used to it. Logan gave a barking laugh at her response, the vibrations shaking her.

"Smell him out?" Logan repeated, guffawing at the comment. "What am I, a hound dog?"

"You asked!" Jubilee said defensively. She looked around, at the buildings racing past them. _And I used to think being stuck in a car was bad. At least I could move around a little! _"How much longer 'till we get there?"

"It'll be another half hour." Logan said. "You do realize this is a bike, and not a jet or anything like that?"

"I noticed that, especially with the way you're driving!" Jubilee shot back. "I hope you remember that I don't heal! If we wreck, you'll live, but I'll be a stain on the asphalt!"

"Don't worry about my driving!" Logan said. "We'll both get there in one piece. Course, one or six of those cameras might send Cyke a few tickets!"

"Na-uh," She told him. "Cyke put that spray on his plates. He doesn't get tickets from cameras anymore."

"You had to spoil my fun." Logan groaned. "What next? You're gonna tell me this is an imitation Harley?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hope you liked it, though I realize some would consider it a tiny update. Please review! I am sorry Tony Stark couldn't make a longer appearance, he will in the next chapter. Right now his abilities are needed at the critical hotspots, and he knows the Punisher can take care of himself.

And, for my long-time readers; I started this story over two years ago, and feel I've gotten a lot better since then. So, I'm rewriting the older chapters—for every new update, one of the old chapters will be rewritten, the same plot and actions, but hopefully more enjoyable, more polished and well done. So far chapters 1 and 2 have been rewritten. Go take a look, I think they're a lot better.

Oh, and a small poll. I'm toying with the idea of putting small monologues (sort of journal entries, if you will) by various characters at the beginning of chapters, having characters mulling over what's going on from their individual point of views. (If I did, I'd add monologues to older chapters as they are re-edited and polished.) What do you guys think?


	37. Bring a Gun to Work Day

Proceeding on… my huge thanks to all reviewers. Reading those reviews makes every second of writing well worth it. Seriously. For you guys it takes only thirty seconds to write out a short little comment, but to me, that feedback matters so much.

I do apologize for the delay in updating, I was writing a short Resident Evil ficlet to be entered into the competition on Another Order, a forum here on . If any of you are Resident Evil gamers, I'd love it if you'd check it out and let me know what you think. Don't worry, I kept the gore and depression trimmed down enough that it ends on a clean-feeling positive note.

On with the story.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_I wonder how the press will treat this incident. Stark Industries, Yakuza, and the Punisher. That'll be interesting. Hah. Forget the press, I wonder what Xavier or the X-Men or Jubilee will think of this---that'll be awkward, to say the least. It probably took five minutes for them to realize that I'm involved, assuming that the tour group we were in has been evacuated and has been interviewed already._

_Hopefully I haven't dug myself into a pit by doing this—if the cameras I've seen around the buildings are working, and the press gets their hands on them, I could quickly become guilty by association, regardless of the legalities. _

_Wesley Judson _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Don't people usually break shoulders doing that?" Wesley asked, looking at the roof they were about to jump to. "Not only is it fifteen feet below us, but it's almost, what, twelve feet away? We'll have to charge like maniacs and land on concrete."

"Roll into it." Castle said shortly. "It'll lessen the shock, and the vest should help a little with the impact." He ran forward, jumped, and landed like a professional.

Wesley let out a frustrated moan. Now he had to follow suit. At least he didn't have to leap off a railing—the Punisher had found a grenade launcher on one of the Yakuza and had used it to blow a clear spot in the railing, allowing for an easier jump. Wesley rubbed his forehead, then carefully unloaded and clicked the safety on the shotgun and assault rifle he was carrying before tying them together with the rifle's sling. Castle looked impatient.

"I'll be right there!" Wesley shouted over. It dawned on him that he didn't need to leap while holding the two guns—that could turn out badly. "Catch!" Wesley's throw was decent, and the Punisher easily caught the bundle before they hit the rooftop. Wesley hesitantly walked twenty feet back from the edge, trying to focus. On second thought, he took out the pistol he had taken off one of the Yakuza and clicked the safety on that, as well, making sure the chamber was empty and the hammer not cocked. _It's not that far, it's not that far… _He sprinted towards the edge and leaped across. The concrete rooftop came up to greet him with frightening speed, knocking the wind out of him and sending shock waves through his entire body.

"I should've stayed on the other side," Wesley gasped, the pain constricting his words. "I am never doing that again." He rolled over, facing the sky. "I'm going to have to see a chiropractor now, you know that?"

"You'll be fine." Castle said, holding out the weapons. Wesley regained his feet and gingerly accepted them back, reloading them for combat. Castle strolled over to the railing and looked over the edge, then back at Wesley, then at a hatch that covered a stairway. "Feeling up for a little rappelling?"

"We don't have rope." Wesley pointed out. Castle raised his eyebrows, as if surprised Wesley would say such a thing.

XXXXX

Wesley carefully moved down another few steps, his hands on the rope. He had not brought the proper equipment for rappelling… but his jeans had belt loops on them. After some convincing by the Punisher, he had ran the cord through his belts loops, tied the end of the cord around his chest in case he fell, and lowered himself over the side. Now he was tightly gripping the two sections where the met at the front of his pants. _God, if I die, please make sure I don't get a Darwin Award,_ he prayed silently. He loosed his grip slightly on the rope and descended a few more feet, positioning himself over the window. His legs were spread awkwardly, his feet resting on the frame surrounding the window instead of on the glass itself. He made sure his left hand's grip on the rope was secure, then withdrew a 9mm pistol with his right, getting ready.

"Come'on." Wesley muttered quietly, glancing at his watch. He wondered if his belt loops would snap, if he'd fall, if a police sniper would nail him. He glanced out towards the city.

The view was amazing. He half expected to see Spider-Man swinging from building to building in the distance.

**BLAMBLAMBLAM! **Twenty feet off or so, Castle had opened fire, still partially hidden in the stairwell. Two Yakuza ran past the window, heading down the hallway towards the Punisher. Wesley grimaced and squeezed off several rounds. **BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! **

It didn't break! The thick glass cracked, but refused to shatter!The two Yakuza turned around, perplexed at the gunfire. Wesley fought the urge to scream, grabbed the rope firmly, and kicked off the building, moving himself several feet away from the window, removing him from Yakuza's line of sight. Rifles cracked just inside the building and the window exploded outwards, sending fragments through the air. Wesley hesitated for a moment, then glanced back up. The railing looked fifteen or twenty feet above him. _Wait for it! _He leaned back slightly and pointed the handgun at the window, his finger on the trigger, wondering if they were that brazen.

One of them leaned out the window, holding a Type 85 submachine gun. Wesley squeezed the trigger, the gun spat fire, and the Yakuza collapsed, his upper torso draped over the window sill. He could hear a shout in the hallway and the body was suddenly yanked back. Wesley took a breath and waited, gun aimed at where the head would emerge.

The Yakuza suddenly went flying out the window, screaming. Wesley froze, baffled and shocked.

"It's clear." The voice hollered, the owner wisely refraining from leaning out the window.

"Castle?" Wesley called hesitantly, his heart racing at insane speeds.

"Who were you hoping for?" Frank shot back. "Get in here." The butt of a rifle emerged and smacked at the remaining chunks of glass, making it safer for him to enter. Wesley slowly maneuvered himself back in front of the window. Castle was already out of sight. Wesley kicked himself back a few inches to gain momentum, then swung forward into the hallway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"When we go in, stick with cover." The Punisher said in a normal volume. "Don't do anything rash. This could get messy." The gunfire down the hallway was masking the sound of their conversation and their steps. Yakuza was either fighting it out with security forces or SWAT. "Try to avoid shooting as long as possible to keep the element of surprise." Wesley nodded, the shotgun up and ready, the assault rifle hanging on his back. He had only four shells in the shotgun, so he'd use the ammo, then discard the weapon and switch to the FN SCAR, with its thirty round magazines.

They slowly moved ahead. Around the corner, through an open double doorway, they could see several Yakuza, shooting at people out of their sight. Wesley risked another look. The room seemed to end ten feet past the doors, turning into an **L** shaped balcony overlooking the floor below it. Castle signaled, and they advanced, making it to the doorway without being noticed. They were at the bottom of the **L**, and three or four Yakuza were spread out in cover along the two sides. A stairway joined the two levels at the top of the **L. **

"Now." The Punisher mouthed. They rushed forward. Three Yakuza were standing within ten feet of them, but their attention was on the shooters below. Wesley picked the one farthest to the right and charged the man, slamming him into the pillar before ripping the submachine gun out of his hands. The man swung a blow, but Wesley stepped forward, placed his right foot behind the man's left and shoved, sending him to the ground where he knocked him out with a swift kick to the head. To his left, Castle had already taken down the others. Below them, the security forces were still shooting.

_Below us! _Wesley realized. Stark Industries wouldn't waste the floor space. More Yakuza were directly below him. The idea of shooting through the floor popped into his head but quickly vanished. The floor appeared to some sort of marble or granite; the bullets wouldn't be able to punch through it. He glanced over at the Punisher. He was already at the stairs, moving down slowly while firing at the remaining Yakuza. Wesley leaned over the railing, wondering if he could get a shot at them—

—and a hand snaked around his throat, yanking him backwards and off balance. The Yakuza hadn't been knocked out! The gangster shoved a gun barrel into his temple and started walking forward. Wesley complied for the moment. _How could I be so stupid?! _ Wesley silently wondered, his heart racing. They walked forward several more steps and it dawned on him…_God help me, he wants to use me as a human shield!_ The barrel suddenly moved away from his head and aimed at the Punisher, who was now crouched behind a desk on the lower level. Wesley squirmed a little, testing. Only an arm was around his throat, not a knife. He could grab at the pistol, but the Yakuza had pulled him so far backwards that if he stepped away, Wesley would fall down. The Yakuza waited a few more seconds, trying to line up the sights for a headshot.

_Indecision is a decision! _Wesley reminded himself. He grabbed at the weapon, jamming two fingers directly behind the trigger, surprising and momentarily delaying the gangster, while shouting to alert Frank.

"Castle!" He shrieked. The Punisher looked up. The Yakuza reacted quickly, shifting his grip on the pistol, then twisting it several inches, snapping Wesley's fingers. He screamed, and the Yakuza quickly jerked the gun away, removing Wesley's now-limp fingers from inside the trigger guard. The motion had taken just over a second. The Yakuza pointed the gun at Castle and squeezed of several rounds. Frank ignored the bullets and brought the rifle up. Wesley shoved at the arm around his throat, budging it a few inches, then moved his head out of the way.

**BLAM! **Castle fired once. The Yakuza's head snapped back, blood splattering Wesley's cheek. A second later the body sagged to the floor, releasing him.

None of the guards were firing—the small battle was apparently over. Wesley gasped, shock threatening to paralyze him. He reached down with his left hand, removed the pistol from the Yakuza's hand, and discharged two more rounds into the dead murderer's face.

"You up there!" One of the guards shouted up. "You okay?" Wesley nodded, pocketing the handgun. Two of the guards were busily attending to a wounded third, while the fourth was reporting something over a phone. Wesley made his way down the stairs, feeling exhausted. He yanked the earplugs out, thankful as normal hearing returned.

"Can you adjust the display?" Castle was asking the fourth guard, gesturing to the security monitors. The tiny screens were blank, the cameras shot out. The guard nodded and adjusted something. Frank glanced at Wesley, a questioning look on his face. Wesley nodded silently, appreciating that Castle was pretending not to know him. He looked over at the two helping the wounded man, remembering…

"Hey!" He shouted weakly. One of them looked up time to catch the packet of Quik-Clot. The other guard looked at him.

"Where'd you get this?" He asked, surprised. He didn't bother wait for an answer. "Thank you." He went back to helping his hurt co-worker. The downded man's kevlar vest was soaked with blood and had a hole punched in the middle of the chest area.

"That hand doesn't look good." The fourth guard said, standing behind him. Wesley shrugged.

"I'll have a doctor fix it." He said. The guard yanked open desk drawer and dug through it.

"Here." The guard said. "It'll be better if you put a splint on it to immobilize it until you can get real help." He took out several pens and a roll of tape and took Wesley's hand. "It'll help." Wesley grimaced at the pain, but allowed him to quickly construct a makeshift splint. The guard slowly extended the fingers, then placed two pens on each side, then wrapped it with tape.

"Thanks." Wesley said gingerly. It did help.

"No problem." The guard said, returning his attention to the computer screen.

"I'll head through management and link up with your buddies over there." Castle said, speaking to the guard. "Radio them and let them know I'm coming."

"Will do." The guard replied shortly.

"I should probably evacuate." Wesley said awkwardly. "Thanks for saving me, Punisher." Castle nodded and walked off, heading on to the next battle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Man, finally." Jubilee said, relaxing and sitting upright, stretching as much as the bike would allow. "I thought we'd never get here."

"It's been one stinkin' hour." Logan shot back. "We made good time, especially with traffic."

"Sure we did." Jubilee replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now what?"

"This whole thing was your idea." Logan reminded her, surveying the police blockade several blocks away. Behind them, National Guardsmen in Hummers were still arriving. "What were you expecting, that we'd be able to walk right in?" He rolled the bike over to an empty space at a shoe store and parked it. Jubilee's eyes were on the blockade.

"We might be able to sneak in." She said distantly, staring at the police and soldiers. "Maybe you could cut a hole in that fence. We're sure not going over the top." The twelve-foot high chain link fence surrounding the facilities was topped with loops of razor wire. Thankfully, landscapers had tried to hide the fence by planting bushes and trees near it. That would shield them from sight as they broke in.

"And what if it's electrified?" Logan questioned. She wanted to sneak in, she could plan it out. "When your whole skeleton is metal, shocks hurt more than usual. A lot more." Jubilee shook her head.

"It's not. I saw a guard lean against it a few moments ago," She told him. "But we'll need tape or wire to hold the cut portion up, so no one walks by and notices a hole. Hmm… wire, definitely." She got off the bike and started walking rapidly to a small shop. Logan was impressed by her thoroughness.

"Where'd you learn that?" He wondered, doubting Scott's danger room sessions imparted anything that useful on the students.

She grinned, pleased with herself. "Movies and video games. Let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Some time later…_

"Give it to me straight." Tony ordered, cradling the phone next to his ear as he typed the password into the computer. "What are our losses?" He took another sip of brandy.

"We're still not exactly sure, and more than a few people are in critical condition." Mitchell said. "But at the moment it looks like more than half our security force is KIA or wounded. Eight scientists are dead or missing, and eleven tourists. That's not counting the four hostages that they took with them, or the protype combat suits. We've confirmed they took three of them."

"Where's the Punisher?" Tony asked, his words a little quieter than usual, evidence of his lack of energy. "I saw him in the middle of things."

"We don't know." Mitchell admitted. "We're still securing buildings and verifying they're clear. I've two guys manning the security room. They haven't reported seeing the anyone matching Castle's description."

"Then have those two guys review the feeds and find the him. Or his buddy, at least. I saw them near the accounting department. Put alerts on their faces and have the computer track them down." Stark ordered. "They somehow knew what was going to happen. Don't let them leave, but don't use force on either of them. We need to find out where our armor and those hostages were taken."

"Yes sir." Mitchell said reluctantly. "We should have their locations within ten minutes, if they're still on site."

"Call me as soon as you find them." Tony said. "I've got a call from Fury coming in."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_It's always the same. You want to leave a busy place unnoticed, walk out the front door, _Wesley mused, his boots thumping on the stairs as he rounded the corner and continued down. Stark Industries even went the extra mile on the stairwells. Instead of the usual dark gray, these appeared to be imitation marble. Two guards were heading up. Wesley stepped to the side and let them pass, nodding a greeting. The second one returned it as he went by. Several moments later they were out of side and he continued on, his legs aching. He had gone down eight agonizingly long flights of stairs. The two broken fingers on his right hand were still throbbing, but the makeshift cast helped a little. He'd have Jean look at it once he got back to the school, she'd probably be able to fix it.

The stairs finally reached a dead stop; ground floor. Wesley yanked the steel door open and strode down the hallway, finding himself a dozen yards from a main lobby. It was bustling with guards and medical personnel, running various errands and speaking on radios. Hesitation made him look around twice. For whatever idiotic reason, he had foolishly kept the 9mm handgun the Yakuza had used to hold him hostage with. If he was frisked and the weapon found, he'd be arrested immediately—but no one appeared to have checkpoints set up. Wesley set his eyes on the door and headed straight for it. _Extra large milkshake, steak burger, fries, find a park to have lunch at, be back at the Xavier's School in an hour, then I'll hit the pool and relax, track down Jubilee… _He felt energized. He had done very well, all in all, better than a lot of people had faired. He **was** skilled enough to deserve the eighty grand a year that the Professor had offered him.

"You! Stop!" Someone behind him shouted. Wesley ignored it and continued walking purposefully towards the exit. The uplifting, positive energy vanished, replaced by a sick feeling.

"You in the navy coat!" The voice said firmly. "I am detaining you for questioning!" Wesley turned around, acknowledging the order. A guard was striding towards him, his pistol out and aimed at Wesley's face. The other guards and the medical personnel were alert now, gawking. Wesley guessed he had eight seconds before the guard reached him.

**Six Seconds**

The doorway was only fifteen feet away. If he bolted, they might not react in time. He could disarm the guard, knock him down and get outside in a couple seconds. _But I'm dead tired, how far could I run? _

**Four Seconds**

If he ran, they could probably id him from the surveillance cameras. They'd be able to locate him fairly quickly. SHIELD agents would probably be crashing his front door in within twelve hours…

**Two Seconds**

These people were just guards. It wasn't illegal to run from them. They couldn't track him down and arrest him. Outside those walls they had absolutely no authority.

They might shoot him though, if he fled and didn't do it well enough. Perhaps they wouldn't, as it'd be a public relations nightmare to have guards shooting fleeing tourists in the back. But NYPD or the National Guard had probably set up a perimeter around Stark Industries, and they would not hesitate to kill a man fleeing the site of a massive attack, being pursed by guards. He had to escape quietly, and he couldn't do that with a dozen witnesses.

Wesley raised his hands and surrendered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please leave a review, and lend me your thoughts on this chapter. My apologies again for the long wait. And yes, Punisher was somewhat ignoring Wesley when they ran into those guards so they wouldn't suspect Wesley was Castle's accomplice.


	38. Withdrawing Delays

Next chapter, much more Tony Stark dialogue and such. Should be lots of fun.

I do realize I'm falling behind on my update schedule. My apologies, I realize this may have frustrated a few people, but I'm in college now, a shocking and unpleasant change after my summer vacation.

Oh, and on another note, I bought my first car. I got a 1996 Ford Explorer, Bronze, four door. I like it.

Anyway, to those people that reviewed; thank you very much. You know who you are, and I hope you know that your reviews mean very much and matter to me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Ten minutes later…_

"So, he didn't put up any resistance?" Stark asked, glancing into the makeshift cell. The office had only one door and a full-length window, which offered no escape, unless the prisoner was suicidal. The door had a small glass pane set into it, which had been upgraded with wire mesh.

"Hasn't said a word, except asking for food and water." The guard replied. "The calculating type, you know?" Stark looked at the items spread out on the table.

"This is everything he was carrying?" He asked, looking over the objects. A handgun, a kevlar vest, a cell phone, safety glasses, earplugs, and a set of keys. The guard nodded. "Excellent. This'll be very helpful."

"Sir?" The guard asked hesitantly. "If he really is the Punisher's sidekick, why haven't we informed the police about him yet?"

"Were you an only child?" Tony asked suddenly, reading a sheet of paper.

"No, I had two younger siblings." The guard replied, unsure how the topics were related. "Why?"

"When you caught them doing something bad and wanted them to do something for you, did you tell on them, or tell them to do the something and **then** threaten to tell on them?" Tony asked, not looking up. The guard nodded his understanding.

"Don't worry, I know what to do," Stark told him, "I just have to do it right."

XXXXXXXX

Wesley straightened in the leather chair as the door handle turned. The heavy door swung open and in walked—

Tony Stark, the famous billionaire himself. _Oh, great. I'm about to get sent away to some secret SHIELD prison or Ryker's Island. _Wesley forced the emotion down and kept his expression bland. Tony had a manila folder in one hand, a glass of scotch in the other. Neither man spoke for several moments.

"I was expecting police," Wesley said, trying to keep his voice even, trying to hide his exhaustion and weakness.

"Police? Why would I call them?" Tony asked, sitting down, tossing the folder on the desktop. "It's not as if you committed a crime."

"I would have been shot if I had tried to leave." Wesley retorted. "So if I didn't commit a crime, why am I here?" _Remember, anger is better than fear, but don't overdo it,_ his instructor had said. _Be angry enough to push the situation where you need it to go but be fearful enough to avoid doing something stupid. _

"For one, you deserve thanks for what you did here." Tony said. He rapped on the door. The guard opened it, and Tony stepped out briefly before returning with a package, which he handed to Wesley.

"Haha." Wesley said, reading the label on the box. "An armor vest. Very funny."

"It's worth eleven hundred new." Tony said, as if upset that Wesley didn't seem pleased. "Even if you don't like it, you could resell it and buy yourself a new gun."

"No, it's splendid." Wesley replied, standing and holding the box under his left arm. "I'll make sure to tell the press what a wonderful person you are. Now, if you don't mind…"

"Actually, there is one other matter." Tony said, as if just remembering. Wesley tossed the package down and collapsed back in the leather seat, sighing. "I need to know who is responsible for today's attack, why, and where they are. That, or I need to know how to contact the Punisher to find out from him."

"How would I know that?" Wesley said, raising his eyebrows as if shocked Tony would ask him. Stark groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"You obviously knew something was going down here today, you knew the Punisher would be here, and you were ready to leap into the fight," Tony rattled off the list. "I've actually got the security tapes right outside. You worked with the Punisher against the Yakuza without a second's hesitation. The two of you paused only to plan ahead before moving on and starting firefights."

"I served two years on the Navy." Wesley replied. "Military training. It keeps me ready. I thought that by working with him I might save lives." Tony shook his head, his patience evaporating rapidly.

"You're wasting my time." Stark told him. He glanced at his watch. "I've got a press conference to do. In half an hour I'll be back and we'll finish this. Either you tell me what I need to know and you walk out of here, or I turn you over to the Punisher Task Force of the NYPD and you can spend the next two years fighting legal battles. Trust me, they're much worse than gunfights." He turned and left the room without saying anything more.

XXXXXXXXXX

Wesley remained frozen for several minutes after Stark had left, feeling shredded. _Broken fingers, arrogant playboys, police… Dear God, please just get me out of here. _Another minutes ticked by, and he slowly began going through the drawers, looking for anything useful. The first drawer yielded pens, pencils, markers, a roll of scotch tape, and paperclips. The second had several packets of printer paper. Wesley grabbed the tape, several sheets of paper, and walked over to the door—more specifically, to the small window in the door…

XXXXXXXXXX

"You know it wasn't that kid's fault." Pepper said lightly, adjusting Stark's tie. "You saw the tapes. He did help and risk his life."

"I know." Tony said absently, thinking about other things. "What, you feel sorry for him?"

"Sure. Poor kid, probably brainwashed by that vigilante, or threatened into helping him." Pepper said, a sympathetic tone in her voice. Tony gave her a doubtful look, making her add the other half of her reasons for objecting. "And I think it could turn into a public relations nightmare. You see a tourist take up arms to help defend us against attackers and you practically kidnap him. Imagine that on Fox News or CNN."

"Don't worry about it." Tony said calmly, checking himself over in a mirror. "I know what I'm doing, and I know the sort of guy I'm dealing with. It'll be fine."

"You're gambling a lot," Pepper warned. "You better be sure of this."

XXXXXXXXXX

"So we're in, now what?" Logan asked, picking a leaf out of his hair. "Is he wearing a homing beacon or something?" Jubilee was staring off into the crowds. They were heading towards one building, and most looked like press.

"Hello?" Logan repeated. Jubilee turned to look at him. "Now what, mastermind in training?"

"I don't know." She admitted, frustration in her voice. "He's here somewhere. Can you smell him out?" Logan rolled his eyes and sniffed a few times to appease her.

"I can smell ten brands of fast food, electronics, body odor, greases and oils, hot metal…" Logan didn't bother adding more to the list. "Wesley doesn't have a distinct odor like you. Tracking him like that would be tough unless you had something of his, like an article of clothing."

"Distinct odor?" Jubilee repeated, tugging at the pink sunglasses propped up just above her forehead. "You're saying I stink?"

"You smell like ozone and cinnamon gum." Logan said flatly. "Makes me think of some sort of human nuclear reactor. Wesley smells pretty normal, unlike you or that flamethrower kid at the school. We're going to have to look for him the old fashion way—with our eyes." Jubilee groaned, then took her cell phone out and punched in a number.

"No answer." She put it back in her pocket.

XXXXXXXXX

Wesley gently tugged the shirt down, feeling pleasantly surprised as it easily slid over the new armor vest. He had watched a Stark Industries sale representative give a demonstration of their soft armor vests; the man had taken out a standard army issue M9 semi automatic pistol and unloaded thirty rounds of high velocity 9mm bullets into the armor without a single round punching through it—excellent quality.

_Sorry Mr. Stark, I won't be here when you get back from your press conference, God willing_, Wesley mused. He began searching for escape, methodically going over every section of the room. The ventilation shafts were too small. The door was too solid, and a guard was standing outside. The full-length window could probably be broken eventually, but he was five floors up and had no rope.

_I have to leave the same way I came in, _He decided. _I have to get that guard to open the door._ He peeled the paper off the window.

"Hey, buddy!" Wesley rapped on the glass. The guard turned around. "Open the door for me?" The guard snickered. Wesley changed his approach. "I will give you five thousand dollars to open the door."

"What do I look like, some flunky you can bribe?" The guard laughed. "You're stuck. Deal with it." Wesley promptly put the sheet of paper back.

A large, ornamental paperweight sat on the desk. It was a small glass sphere, with a clock inside, mounted on a little wooden base. Probably a gift for employees who reached the five-year mark. Wesley picked it up with his left hand and hurled it at the window. It bounced off with a loud _crack_. Wesley crouched, waiting to lunge when the door opened.

It didn't. Wesley let twenty seconds tick by before standing at grabbing at the chair---

_Forget that._ He examined the large bookcase, crammed full of volumes about taxes and regulations. He tugged on it, making it budge ever so slightly. _Not secured!_ He slipped his hands behind the cabinet, trying to not aggravate his broken fingers much, and heaved.

BOOM! The bookcase crashed down onto the desk, making an earsplitting thunder.

The door flew open two seconds later, revealing the guard, his taser up and ready. Wesley paused for a moment, unsure of how to react to the weapon. The guard promptly aimed at his chest and fired, sending out two small probes…

Which impacted into his chest and did nothing. Wesley charged and body slammed the guard, sending him up against the wall. The man reacted like a textbook, pushing Wesley away and trying to draw his sidearm. Adrenaline surging, Wesley attacked, backhanding him in with his closed left fist, the knuckles hitting the guard in the upper cheek, using his wounded right hand to try to stop him from drawing his weapon. The guard smacked his swollen hand, sending electric vibes of pain through it, then drew the gun. Wesley abruptly headbashed the man, his forehead colliding with the guard's nose. The guard shied back, disoriented, blood streaming from his nostrils. Wesley stepped forward and elbowed him in the face, the firmly struck the back of his neck with the edge of his hand. The guard collapsed, the sudden pain and shock paralyzing him with fear.

"You broke my neck!" The man shrieked obscenities. "Oh, God, I'm paralyzed!" Wesley picked up the fallen sidearm and pistol-whipped him, finally knocking him out. One the man's belt was a security clearance card; Wesley took it, wondering if he'd need it to get out.

"Now for round… 2, of leaving Stark Industries…" He said to himself, staggering out the door and closing it behind him. Sprawled on the table where his possessions, and to his delight, several dvd's marked **evidence.** _Must've been those security tapes Stark was talking about…_ He pocketed those and took the rest of his stuff back, leaving the used kevlar vest the Punisher had given him. The 92-AF pistol went into his belt, a round chambered with the safety on. Thanks to the handgun's design, all one had to do was draw the weapon and brush the safety off with his finger in an upward motion, very simple and easy.

He flipped open his phone, turning it back on. **You have 4 missed calls**, the message displayed. Wesley didn't bother click on it, but he did contemplate calling his coworkers and asking for help. _Chris, Jill, David… man, I wish you guys were here._ He caught sight of himself of a window and debated finding a bathroom and cleaning up. _No! Just get out of here! You can make paramedics think you're a wounded victim, just get out!_

Ahead of him, the door had a glowing card reader next to it. Wesley ran the stolen card through the reader. The LED switched from red to green, and he pushed it open.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Do you want to call the mansion and see if he's there?" Logan asked, leaning against a car.

"He's not." Jubilee said matter-of-factly. "The Professor would've had him call me." She looked around a few times, thinking. "You know, for someone 'Who's the best at what he does' you're not being a help."

"This isn't my idea." Logan replied, looking amused. "Besides, this whole thing is great training for you. You're learning to formulate plans and… stuff." Jubilee's fingertips glowed briefly, but she resisted the urge to _paft_ him.

"Fine, evil mastermind." Jubilee said. "Where would someone head for a tour?"

Logan finally contributed something helpful. "Probably over there." He pointed to a building. "See? No guard booth out front, and it's got great landscaping. Plus, it's towards the front of the little base. That's where tourists would go." Jubilee looked around.

"Great." She snapped. "I don't think we'll be able to walk there from here. There's another fence."

"Calm down, kid." Logan said, pointing at one structure, relaxed as ever. "We could probably go through that building."

"Then let's go!" She started moving, not waiting for the Canadian to follow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Wish I had set a webcam up, _Wesley thought, smirking as he headed down the stairs. _Escaped and stole the evidence. If only I could see the look on that smug jerk's face when he finds that out._ He passed another floor, wondering why Stark couldn't have had him locked up on the ground level. With pizza. In an office with a shower. Below him, he could hear people walking up. He slowed his pace, getting ready to nod a greeting and step to the side. Two guards rounded the stairs, the one on the right slowing as…

It was **HIM, **the guard who had originally arrested him**!** The guard froze, staring at him in shock for a moment, before his hand moved for his pistol. The other guard hadn't noticed yet.

"Stop right there!" He ordered firmly, drawing his weapon. Wesley grabbed the railing with his left hand, jumped slightly, and drop-kicked the guards in the chests, knocking them backwards and sending them tumbling down half a dozen stairs. He rapidly jumped over their prone forms, avoiding their limbs, and charged down the stairs as fast as he could bolt. Eight stairs later the two had apparently recovered.

"This is Johnson in the northwest stairwell of Building C, pursing suspect headed towards ground level! Over!" Boots stomped above him. Wesley settled for the 2nd floor and hurled the door open, running down a long hallway. He didn't care about the police or the army, he'd get out of there somehow! He had to run, he had to lose them!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Now armed with a candy bar and a soda, compliments of slightly-electrified vending machines, Jubilee walked rapidly and with energy, burying the small feeling of uncertainty that was creeping up on her. If Wesley suddenly rang up saying he was at a gunshop or at the school, she'd feel pretty stupid. Then again, he could be in a hospital somewhere… She looked around again, wondering if frying that lock to get them in was really a good idea.

A guard ran past her, his utility belt jingling. She glanced back at Logan, who looked mildly interested. They increased their pace, following. The hallway opened up into a small lobby, with excellent décor.

WHAM! A door to their right flew open and Wesley emerged, running flat-out towards the exit. Jubilee was overjoyed.

"Wesl—" The words caught in her throat as the door exploded outward and two guards ran out, chasing him. Logan suddenly came to life and charged forward, moving with surprising speed for someone who had been acting so lazy.

"Wesley!" Jubilee repeated. He turned around, surprise evident on his face as he noticed the two of them.

Logan reached the first guard, snagged by the arm, spun him around, and slugged him in the face. The man dropped, and the two other guards suddenly noticed that Logan was a participant. Jubilee hurled a glowing orb in front of the guard closest to Wesley. It exploded, turning into a miniature sun for a brief moment. Logan engaged the second guard and disabled him with frightening speed. The third guard's vision cleared… only to see Wesley aiming a 9mm handgun at his face.

"Don't shoot." The man pleaded, holding his hands up. "I've got kids!"

"If you chase me again," Wesley's voice sounded ragged, "I swear I'll kill you." Logan almost casually struck the man in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. Jubilee ran over and hugged Wesley.

"I knew you were here! I knew it!" She gasped. "I'm so glad you're all right!" Wesley returned the embrace, suddenly grinning.

Logan took a few long steps and shoved them both towards the doors, moving quickly. "Earth to Romeo and Juliet, there's probably more of those guys on the way!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Soft Armor: Flexible, light body armor such as kevlar vests. Will not stop rifle rounds unless multiple vests are layered. Usually worn by security guards, law enforcement, and the like. Soldiers usually wear soft armor upgraded with hard armor inserts, ceramic or steel plates.

Oh, and that karate chop the neck move? It's real. I was taught it by a black belt in Kenpo during one lesson. He said that you could strike the back of the attacker's neck, and if you did it with enough force, the resulting shock and pain could make the attacker believe you had broken his neck, which would paralyze him with fear. He said it had worked for him once in a fistfight.

Anyway, hope you liked it. Leave a review, please.


	39. Cooling Off

Chapter 39

And here's the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciated getting them. Freegirl, my apologies, I considered the line of story plot you described in the review you left, but it didn't seem to work. My thanks to Eternal Destiny, my unofficial volunteer beta.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_It's hard to believe that I was living on the road less than two months ago. Now I'm hanging around a school, having to deal all these teenagers and with the 'X-Men' and everyone else… but I admit, it feels better than being on my own, alone. All I remember is being alone—maybe it's time to change. _

_Logan_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"Mr. Stark, it's Mitchell on the line. He says it's urgent." Pepper told him, holding the phone out. Tony accepted it, maintaining his stride.

"Yeah, Mitchell, what is it?" He asked, pausing to enter a code on a door lock.

"Sir, the detainee escaped." Mitchell informed him. "And he stole the disks you had brought up from security."

"Was anyone hurt?" Tony questioned, sitting down behind a large and expensive desk and clicking speakerphone on. Pepper stood by, looking worried.

"A few guards were injured, but they'll be okay." Mitchell said. "We have a recording of him and two accomplices fighting several guards before escaping. Shall I contact the police?"

"No." Stark told him. "Bury it. I want all surveillance footage with him on it sent to my office right away." Mitchell fell silent. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

"No sir." Mitchell replied sourly. "Anything else?"

"That is all." Tony said briefly, then clicked the phone off. He looked up at Pepper. "As I thought."

"What are you going to do?" Pepper asked. "He might take legal action."

"He won't." Tony said, shaking his head. "He's gone and happy to be. His friends are probably relieved as well."

"I guess that's a dead end concerning the investigation." Pepper ventured. "Still, I think it's for the better. He wasn't going to tell you anything."

"Not quite a dead end." Stark corrected her. "Remember the vest I gave him?" Pepper nodded. "He left the one he had been wearing right outside the office he was locked in, and they found the empty box for the vest I did give him. Which means he's wearing the new vest I handed him."

"And that helps us… how?" Pepper asked.

"I had a small transmitter placed inside the vest's lining." Tony informed her. "It transmits an electronic pulse every thirty seconds, giving us his location within three feet for the next week."

"So you're going to have someone tail him for a week, waiting for him to have lunch with Frank Castle?" Pepper asked, not sounding enthused.

"Actually, a UAV will be doing the tailing." Tony said, looking through a computer file. "But besides that part, yeah. Unless SHIELD comes through with information and we don't need him."

"How'd you know he wouldn't kill any of our guys while breaking out?" Pepper questioned, looking disturbed that Tony had risked them.

"The Punisher follows a strict set of engagement rules." Stark replied. "He would **never** kill someone he considered innocent. It's logical that if he chose to work with this kid, they share the same guidelines concerning that. I wasn't placing any of our guards in mortal danger."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Man, you parked almost half a mile away from the place!" Jubilee complained, panting, leaning against the van. "What's with that?"

"He anticipated that it'd be hard to get out of there in a vehicle." Logan cut in. "Right, junior?"

"Yeah, that thought occurred to me." Wesley admitted. "I'm gonna head back to the school now." Logan didn't bother ask Jubilee who she was going back with.

"Try not to get arrested or shot along the way," Logan said, already walking off. "See you two later."

"Thanks for the help." Wesley called after him. The Canadian waved without turning around.

"Are we picking up lunch?" Jubilee asked, adding pointedly, "I'm famished. Convincing Wolvie to drive me down here and rescuing you took all my energy."

"I am truly touched that you came looking for me." He told her seriously, taking the hint. "Thank you."

"Glad you appreciate me." Jubilee responded, smiling. She glanced at his right hand, at the red and swollen fingers. "How'd that happen?" Wesley shrugged, unlocking the van with his left hand.

"Things got a bit close." He said, not going into specifics. She didn't look like she was letting it drop. "I'd rather not talk about it." He told her bluntly, getting in the driver's seat.

"Okay." Jubilee agreed. She walked around the front of the van and hopped in the passenger side. "Question number two, can you drive without your right hand?"

"Do you have a license?" Wesley asked, gingerly taking the 9mm pistol out of his pocket and stowing it in the glove compartment. Jubilee shook her head. "Then yes, I can drive."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm pleased to hear that." Xavier said. "Yes, I see you were right." He fell silent for a few seconds. "I'll look into that. See you when you get back." He clicked the phone down, then rolled out his office and down the hallway, locating Jean in the foyer, speaking with a teenager.

"Professor," Jean said. "We were just about to come looking for you. This is Danielle Moonstar, the new student we were expecting." She gestured to the girl standing next to her. She looked around fifteen, a Native American from Arizona.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you." Xavier smiled warmly and offered a hand, which the girl accepted. "How was your trip?"

"It was okay." She said. "I almost lost a suitcase at the airport, but besides that, it was okay."

"Glad to here that nothing too bad happened." Xavier said. "Airports certainly aren't fun places." He noticed Kitty passing by and seized the opportunity.

"Kitty?" Xavier said. She paused, looking over. "This is Danielle Moonstar, a new arrival. Could you show her to her room?" _Normally I'd have Jean or Storm do that, but I have a few urgent things I must discuss with them,_ He added telepathically.

"Sure thing!" Kitty said enthusiastically. She introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Katherine Pride, but everyone calls me Kitty."

"Danielle." The girl said. Kitty picked up one of her suitcases.

"I'll help you get settled in. You'll love it here, it's like the best campus in existence…" The two left.

"Jubilee located Wesley at Stark Industries." Charles said quietly. "Aside from a few mild injuries, he's alright, but he did need their help."

"Good thing they found him." Jean said, surprised. She had doubted that Wesley had been in any trouble. "What else? I'm guessing by the look on your face there's some bad news as well." He didn't look happy.

"She said Wesley had been detained by the guards on suspicion of being the Punisher's accomplice." The Professor told her. "He escaped their custody but was pursued. Logan had to incapacitate several members of their security team before they could leave."

"Oh, great." Jean said, rubbing her forehead. "So, they know who he is, and there could be a warrant out for him right now."

"Yes." Xavier said evenly. "We could have some complications."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough." Jean said quietly.

"There doesn't seem to be much else we can do." Xavier commented. "I'll inform Ororo and Scott."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"—and they're on their way back now." The Professor finished. "Jubilee also said to tell you Logan has your Harley and he'll be back later."

"I knew he stole it!" Scott said frustratedly. He paused, then changed topics. "So they identified Wesley, arrested him, and he escaped?" Scott groaned. "And we're going to help him? That was his fault that he was grabbed for helping the Punisher, not ours!"

"Think of it this way." Xavier said calmly. "If we refuse to help him, and he is consequently arrested, he could tell the media rather damaging information about us." Charles knew that Judson wouldn't do such a thing, but the excuse would help ease Scott's opposition to sheltering him.

"Good point." Scott said unhappily. "But what happens if he's on the evening news tonight as New York's most wanted?"

Charles sighed. "We'll deal with that if it happens."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why'd you go there?" Jubilee asked, studying him. "And don't tell me any lies this time."

"I didn't lie to you." Wesley said, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to glance at her. "I said a friend gave me the ticket and would be upset if I didn't go. That was true." Jubilee fell silent for several moments.

"Did you kill people?" She asked suddenly. Wesley didn't look at her this time, but he did respond.

"Yes." He said evenly. "I killed people today."

"So the Punisher just calls you up whenever he needs another gun?" Jubilee asked, sounding upset. "You just kill whoever he wants you to?"

"What're you so appalled about?" Wesley shot back, anger flaring up. "All I was doing was taking out the garbage, killing bad people who probably had to kill or rape someone just to join their little gang. I don't get any joy out of killing people. I do it to save lives." Neither spoke for a few seconds.

"Tom Cruise." Jubilee spoke finally.

"What?" Wesley asked, irritated.

"He said that in a Collateral, 'All I'm doing is taking out the garbage, killing bad people.' " Jubilee said quietly.

"What was he in that movie, a IMF agent or something?" Wesley asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

"He was a contract killer named Vincent." Jubilee replied, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Oh." Wesley didn't know what to say. "I thought Tom Cruise just played good guys."

"Except that one time." Jubilee informed him. "That time he played the bad guy."

"Huh… was it good?" Wesley asked, unsure of how to continue.

"Yeah. He was kind of evil, though." Jubilee said. Wesley raised his eyebrows. "And he died at the end." She added. "Max the cab driver shot him."

"Sounds like an inglorious ending." Wesley said. He let out a long breath and seemed to shrink down a little in his seat, his shoulders relaxing, the anger leaving him. "It was a stupid thing to do, I admit. It wasn't my fight, and probably wasn't even the Punisher's. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't have gone." To her credit, Jubilee didn't say anything antagonistic.

"Just…just don't do anything like that again, okay?" Jubilee asked quietly. "I hate funerals." _Man, that's right, she attended her parents' funerals before she made it to high school… _Wesley realized.

"Don't worry." Wesley said, taking his eyes off the road long enough to meet Jubilee's gaze. "Things got scary today; I won't be pulling anymore stunts like that for a long time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I really didn't feel Wesley could outsmart Stark and escape under his own power. Wesley's smart, but not that smart. He's also a good fighter, but he'd get taken down pretty quickly in a fight against three security guards.


	40. Lucky You

Okay, here's my long-overdue next chapter. My sincere apologies if any of you thought I might have abandoned the story. (I'm still a bit sad that TheLastEuropean abandoned his[her?] X-Men fanfiction starring Jubilee.) I swear, I'd give notice. I was also delayed because I've been writing a few other ficlets, none of which have earned much feedback.

As usual, thanks very much for the reviews. For me, writing is hardly any fun if other people aren't enjoying it.

Oh, and I actually decided to get with the times and open a facebook account. My email address is minas tirith 15 yahoo .com (Minas Tirith is the capital city of Gondor, from Lord of the Rings), so if any of you want to look me up, now you can. Just remove the spaces between the words and you have the address.

Anyway… arg, college drama. If college is just like high school, I'm now somewhat glad that I was home schooled. In the words of Will Smith, quoted from the movie Hitch, "I saw that going differently in my mind." But hey, you miss 100% of the shots that you don't take, right? We all suffer and get "I'm busy, but thanks" before we get a yes.

I **so** wish I could read minds. People do stuff, and I walk off wondering, "What was **that**?" I was on campus, and was wearing a gray/navy trench, (It was the evening of the 12th, if you must know) and walked by a small group of people (one of whom is a classmate/casual friend of mine). One of them commented, "Oh, that's great coat."

"Thank you." I replied politely. (I get many compliments about that coat. It's my 3rd favorite garment, after my two level IIIA body armor vests.)

"Tell her what you are." My classmate instructed, grinning. I recalled the joke I had told her a few days earlier, about the same coat.

"Oh, I'm debt collecting today." I informed my classmate's friend, earning some laughs. I started walking off, looking for another classmate that I was planning on attending political club with about fifteen minutes later. My classmate then shouts after me,

"I love you Andrew, and I'm going to marry you someday!"

Oookay… I'm still not entirely sure what to make of that.

* * *

"And make a left here." Jubilee pointed. "How do you get along without a GPS?"

"Hey, I've spent less than a month at the school." Wesley said, shifting lanes. "You expect me to have it memorized?"

"Well, yeah." She admitted casually. "Shouldn't you have a photographic memory?"

"I remember faces but not streets." Wesley shrugged. "I can also memorize facts and songs pretty easily but I forget names."

"Weird." Jubilee commented. "Must be something do to with your job."

"Who knows." He sighed. His phone suddenly chirped to life from it's spot in a cup-holder. He glanced at the caller id.

"The Punisher?" Jubilee wondered. Wesley shook his head.

"My parents." He replied. It continued to ring.

"Not going to answer it?" She questioned.

"Not right now." He said. "I'll call them back later." Jubilee grinned, snatched the phone, flipped it open, and clicked it to speakerphone. A look of shock crossed Wesley's face before he reacted.

"Wesley here." He said quickly, speaking loudly and in the direction of the microphone.

"I catch you at a bad time?" A teenager's voice asked. "You sound half-dead."

"Just had a work out." Wesley responded, composedly enough. "How are things going back home, Joseph?"

"Tests and quizzes and everything else, as usual." The boy replied. "Lucky you, you don't have to go through this stuff."

"Yeah." Wesley snickered. "I have it real easy."

"Did you hear about the terrorist attack on Stark Industries?" Joseph asked. "About sixty people raided it, trying to steal Iron Man armor, but the police and National Guard surrounded the place and forced them out."

"I'm not selling you the suit, before you ask." Wesley joked. "It's worth way more than you could afford."

"Haha." The boy responded. "As if you would have made it out of there alive."

"You never know." Wesley shot back. "I might be a better fighter than you think."

"Then you should challenge my Wing Chun instructor," Joseph retorted, "bet you couldn't beat him." Jubilee laughed.

"Who's th-" Joseph began, but Wesley cut him off.

"I'll humiliate him for you next time I'm in town." He replied, sounding irritated. "Most of those people are **way** more "show" than "do". You do realize that, right?"

"Who was that who laughed?" Joseph questioned. Wesley froze for a brief moment, then spoke.

"My new combat partner, a strikingly beautiful girl named Jubilee." Wesley responded, looking at Jubilee to see her reaction. "Oh, and she agrees that I'd kick your instructor's butt any day of the week." Jubilee burst out laughing as Joseph responded.

"What?!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_A short time later…_

"Listen, you don't really need all these details." Stark replied very bluntly to the reporter. "I will be working with SHIELD, the CIA, and the FBI to find those behind the attacks as well as to recover the stolen armor. Do you really need to know much more about it?" The reporter sat down in a huff.

"Mr. Stark, what about the reports of the Punisher taking part in the attack, and that he had several accomplices?" Another reporter asked.

"The Punisher did not harm any Stark Industries personnel or take part in the robbery." Tony said, shaking his head. "We've completely verified that. While he did kill several people, all of them were terrorist members. As for reports of his accomplices, he was assisted by several people ranging from members of my security team to tourists with military backgrounds, but it doesn't appear than any of them were actual accomplices. According to the NYPD's Punisher Task Force, Frank Castle strictly works alone."

"Lucky you." Jubilee said wryly, glancing over at Wesley. Xavier turned the tv's volume down a few notches.

"Yes, very lucky you. It appears that Mr. Stark follows the 'forgive and forget' policy." The Professor said. "I've contacted several friends of mine in the law enforcement community, and as far as they can tell, no warrants have been issued for your arrest."

"For all our sakes—and especially your own—please, quit while you're ahead." Jean told him. "If you keep gambling, you'll end up losing."

"I'm not going to do that again, don't worry." Wesley said. The seriousness gave way to a relieved grin, and he seemed to sag back into his chair. "But still, I wish I could have recorded it to show you guys. I was hanging off the side of the building, rope through my belt loops, perched right outside a window, feeling like a gigantic bullseye—"

"You think it was a game?" Scott demanded, interrupting him. "Don't you know what you put at stake by doing things like that?" Wesley shrugged.

"What, you guys don't tell war stories?" He asked, taken aback. "When I was stationed at the navy base in Pensacola, anyone who had seen action retold it over the lunch table."

"It's the casual manner in which you are retelling it that concerns him." Storm said calmly. "Every tells war stories, that is human nature."

"When you're a part of a team, your actions effect everyone else." Scott said, forcing himself to speak evenly. "No man is an island, remember? We're on very tenuous footing here, Wesley. Not only could you have ended up in prison, but what you did inadvertently brought Jubilee and Logan into the situation as well."

"I wasn't informed on what was going to happen." Wesley objected. "I am sorry that things got as messy as they did, but Frank helped me and two of my fellow contractors out before. I—we, owed him our lives."

"Most people don't take it that literally." Logan commented dryly. All heads in the room turned. He shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"I don't really feel we need to discuss it further." The Professor broke in. "Wesley has given his word he won't participate in such events in the future. As far as well can tell, neither he nor Jubilee or Logan will be facing legal repercussions for their actions. "

"How's the hand?" Jean asked, obviously trying to change the topic. Wesley looked at it again, despite having examined eight times in the five minutes they had spent in the office.

"It doesn't hurt much." He said, staring at the bandages she had applied. "How soon did you say it should heal?"

"Probably two weeks to a month." Jean told him, her tone reminding him of a concerned mother. "But you are healing faster than normal—that is, the swelling seems to be going down quickly, all things considered. I think you might still have a little of Logan's healing factor in you from that blood transfusion."

"That'd be great." Wesley said, pleased. "Being right handed, this is really awkward."

"Be careful with it." The doctor warned. "Just because it might **feel** healed by the end of the week doesn't mean you can use it normally." Wesley nodded in agreement.

"Meeting adjourned?" Jubilee asked hopefully. The Professor nodded.

"So, how'd it go?" Remy asked, smirking. Wesley raised his eyebrows.

"My time at Stark Industries, or the meeting?" He replied, answering a question with a question.

"You already bragged about your fight." Remy laughed. "I meant da meetin."

"Good enough." Wesley said, happy that it didn't go worse. "How'd your strenuous Sunday afternoon go?"

"Had a fierce poker game with several of da kiddos." Remy said, rubbing his forehead in pretended exhaustion. "I tell ya, a few of them are really good at it."

"Did you spend all day robbing little kids, or did any of them actually win a hand?" Wesley asked, sitting down on a sofa near the public room's flat screen tv.

"Sure." Gambit replied, nodding. "There was three or four rounds I sat out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_That evening…_

"I got my grades back for the first round of tests." Marie told him, eagerly waiting for him to ask what they were. Logan took another puff off the cigar, glancing again into the woods.

"I take it they weren't bad enough for them to throw you out." He commented, blowing a smoke ring into the air. He had tried smoking indoors, but Jean found him and asked him to go outside for that.

"Two A's and two B's." She said, grinning. "My grammar test was the highest score in the class, a 97%." Logan inhaled again, making the cigar glow brightly in the fading twilight. "Pretty good." Logan said approvingly, sounding distracted. "That's good work. Keep it up." He cut his pace a little more to the left, the line of trees and shrubs close enough to touch.

"Thanks!" Marie appreciated his words of praise. "Storm said I'd be having a danger room class next semester… and, well, Jubilee said the Professor was going to ask you to teach, and I was wonderin--" Logan cut her off abruptly with a shove, sending her tumbling to the ground. _Snik!_ The claws extended out of his left hand as he lunged forward with frightening speed, grabbing at something in the bushes with his right hand. He yanked back and pulled a camouflaged man out of the greenery, literally ready to gut the soldier.

"Still haven't lost it, I see." A voice said loudly from the darkness. Logan scowled and released his victim.

"If it isn't Fury's dog." He growled, the metal claws sliding back into his fist as the sheepish trooper took several steps back, embarrassed and frightened. A red-headed woman in uniform stepped out of the darkness into the dim light. "Let me guess, you're here about the Stark thing."

"Not this time." She shot back. "Fury hasn't even mentioned it."

"Fury?" Marie asked, shocked. "Nick Fury? Logan… you work for SHIELD?"

"_Worked_. Once." Logan told her, emphasizing the past tense. "Because he offered twenty thousand dollars for a one operation in the mountains."

"I'm not here to offer you a contract." The woman said flatly. "Nick Fury has something he wishes to discuss with you."

"I'm sure you've got a cell phone on you." Logan snapped. "I haven't gone deaf yet."

"This is not something he's going to talk about over a phone." The SHIELD officer retorted. "He'll speak with you in person. I have a helicopter standing by."

"I've got better stuff to do." Logan said in dismissal. "Come on Marie, let's get back inside." He turned and began walking away.

"This isn't a request." The officer said thinly. Logan stopped, looking over his shoulder back at her.

"You wanna say that again?" Logan growled dangerously. "If you've got anyone on your group that thinks he can make me do something, I'd love to meet him."

"We may not be able to force you to do something, but you're aware of what we can do." She told him. "Yes or no? You've got five seconds to decide."

Logan glanced at Marie before spitting the answer out. "Fine."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hope you all enjoyed, and thanks for reading. If you're feeling generous, I do appreciate all reviews, and it only takes a few moments to write one.

Again, my apologies about the delay. I'll do my best to update within two weeks.


	41. Extra Work

I know, it's been way too long, I should have updated way sooner. I've been… busy. And working on other stuff. But, here's a short update (Better a short update today than a long one next month, right?) for your reading fun. Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, I appreciated them and I hope you'll do the same for this chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

"What exactly is going on?" Logan demanded over the noise of the helicopter rotors.

"There was a break-in at a secure facility." The uniformed woman explained. Marie noted the heavy Russian accent. "Roughly 9 hours ago."

"So, what was taken and who are we torturing?" Logan questioned. The agent gave him a scowl, and Marie looked shocked.

"Torturing?" Marie asked, sounding slightly horrified.

"It's a legitimate question when dealing with SHIELD." Logan told Marie. "They're worse than CIA, Shin Bet, and Mossad combined."

"Or better, depending on how you look at it." The agent shot back. "Do you remember the nuke terrorists set off in Atlanta a few years ago?"

"There was no bombing in Atlanta." Logan scoffed.

"Exactly." The agent countered, smirking. "Because we sank the freighter they were using to bring it in."

"What are you, a spy?" Marie asked, her attention seized by the conversation.

"Spy, commando, assassin, take your pick." Logan answered before the agent could reply. "She goes by the name Black Widow. I'd tell you her real name, but then I'd have to kill her." Black Widow looked insulted at his remark.

"Haven't lost your charming manners since last time, I see." She retorted. "We do what we do so people like you can be drunken cage fighters if you choose to."

"Yeah right!" Wolverine laughed at that. "History is written by the victor. History is filled with liars, and you people are no different." He returned his attention to Marie. "They wear fancier uniforms, but these people are no better than the guys who invaded the school last week. The only difference is that we don't need to fight them yet." Black Widow muttered a few angry words in Russian, turning away as the chopper began its descent. The Canadian ignored her, leaning over to whisper in the teenager's ear.

"While we're here, you're sticking right by me. Don't say anything to anyone. Don't touch anything and don't accept anything anyone offers, even if it's just food." He instructed rapidly. "If something happens, you drop to the ground and don't get up until I tell you." The urgency in his voice prevented her from asking any questions. She simply nodded silently.

* * *

"Exit the helio." Black Widow directed flatly. Logan ignored her tone and stepped out of the craft onto the landing pad. They were on the top of an office building, eight or nine stories high. Marie was fascinated. Logan appeared slightly bored, as if he was a grumpy employee being called back to work. Black Widow walked off towards the roof access doors, not waiting to see if they would follow. Rogue moved to follow, but Logan caught her shoulder and stopped her.

"What?" She asked, confused. "Shouldn't we—"

"Just wait a second." Logan chuckled slightly. "Trust me." Marie glanced around. Now that she was looking, she could just make out the sniper teams near the corners of the rooftop. She half-expected one to turn and look, but the soldiers were ignoring them.

The door slammed back open a moment later, revealing an irritated Black Widow.

"This way." She said, her accent thickened with irritation.

"Ooohhh." Logan replied, faking surprise. "The way you stalked off, I thought you must have invisible henchmen following you. Because you only act that way around lowly grunts, and not your equals." Marie gave him a look of shock, almost asking him what he was doing. His words were childish but goading nonetheless, and he was clearly enjoying bickering with her. Marie saw one of the snipers glance over, looking amused.

"Well, 'equal,' would you rather speak with Colonel Fury and go home, or spend the night on the roof?" The Russian asked sarcastically. Logan shrugged.

"Personally, I think hijacking this chopper and flying around New York City would be pretty fun." Wolverine said. "But, since I'm already here, I'll talk with your boss for a minute." He added the second part as though he was doing her a huge favor. Black Widow's mouth opened then snapped shut, and she gestured to the door. Logan took Marie's hand and strode forward. Black Widow followed.

"Third floor down." The Russian directed. A minute later the three were in a maze of hallways and offices. It would have looked fairly normal, except for all the guards carrying assault rifles.

"Logan, it's been a while." A man with an eye patch greeted him.

"Nick Fury." Logan replied, as if irritated. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

"And I see you haven't changed a bit." Fury remarked. He glanced at Marie, raising his eyebrows. "Well, maybe you have. How's parenthood going for you? Well, raising a kid, at least. I know she's not yours."

"Going pretty well, actually. I was just thinking about teaching her what 'justifiable homicide' is. " Logan shot back. "Now answer my question."

"There was a break-in at a secure facility." Fury began. "The intruder had metal claws in his hands and was able to cut through doors." Logan didn't say anything. "He accessed part of our database and reviewed detailed files about you, including current status. Our files list you as currently residing at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He then accessed our files about the school and the occupants, then escaped."

"So who was it?" Logan questioned. Fury shrugged.

"We don't know. Security managed to hit him a few times and we found blood. DNA analyzing placed the closest match as being yours." Fury said nonchalantly. Logan tensed, his hands tightening into fists.

"Whatever you're planning, you can forget it." He snapped, anticipating a blackmail attempt.

"We know it wasn't you. The DNA is similar to yours, but has noticeable differences." Fury went on. "Our best guess is you might have been cloned."

" 'Might have been cloned'?" Logan repeated in disbelief. "By who?"

"We're working on that." Fury evaded the question. "The point is, there's another you running around, and it seems _likely_ that that you is trying to track you down."

"So deal with it. Don't drag me into it." Logan snarled.

"You're in it whether you want to or not. And why the he—" Fury glanced at Marie and paused. "Why should I risk losing even a squad when you could probably deal with it yourself?"

"Maybe because… it's your job?" Logan suggested icily.

* * *

"_Throwing frag!_" A heavily Russian voice shouted. A burst of gunshots followed, most of them smacking into a wall and not a body.

"I don't know whether to laugh or pity you." Bobby commented. "You do know which end the bullets come out of, right?"

"Haha." Wesley said flatly. "I've got one of these at home, a Bulgarian made version. Very nice gun, actually."

"AK-47's are illegal to own." John said. "What, do you get special privileges as a security guard?"

"Firstly, they are illegal to own in New York, but in most states they're legal with no registration or paperwork as long as they're only semiautomatic." Wesley explained. "Second, I'm not a security guard. I'm a contractor. Security guards work for fifteen bucks an hour guarding Wal-Marts. Contractors like me make eighty dollars an hour protecting places and people important enough that people are willing to spend some money to make sure they stay safe." He paused, focusing on the game for a moment. "The _really_ good contractors, like ex-Seals, ex-Force Recon, ex-CIA, they get paid six hundred bucks per hour, and believe me, those guys are **amazing**." A gunshot rang out onscreen and Wesley's character fell over, making him groan.

"Wow, you finally shut up." John snickered. "Did you get a death streak reward yet?"

"I'm going to kill you." Wesley replied pleasantly, changing his character's weapon loadout before re-spawning. "I just don't have enough practice on this game yet."

"_Predator missile standing by._" The Rangers' announcer declared on the opposite television. A roar signaled the missile being launched, and Peter's soldier darted into a building as the explosive smashed into the ground.

"Man, it sounds like a real war." Jubilee complained, taking a step inside the open door. "I can hear gunshots at the end of the hallway!"

"We'll use silenced guns next round, massacre them quietly." John informed her. The girl paused, staring at the game.

"How can you play that after what happened today?" She asked Wesley. "Didn't you, like, just go through that in real life? And now you're playing it on a game?"

"It's relaxing," Wesley shrugged. "Stress reliever." Onscreen, John's Ranger ambushed him. Wesley's soldier bolted away, running straight at a building before hurling a flash grenade at it. It bounced off the wall and exploded behind him, blinding John. Wesley's Spetsnaz calmly turned around and shot him in the head.

"Oh yeah, looks real relaxing." Jubilee agreed sarcastically. "Later this evening, want me to start shooting guns off in your room, help you sleep?"

"Well, it's relaxing for **me**." Wesley clarified. "Heading to dinner?"

"Yeah." Jubilee nodded. "You coming?"

"In just a few minutes." He replied, focusing on the game. "Save me a few of those brownies, alright? They ran out last time."

"Oh, first I have to rescue you, now I have to prepare your food?" Jubilee asked playfully. "What is it with assuming that all girls are cooks? You know, even in lion prides, it's the females that do the hunting."

"And the males die young from the wounds they get defending the pride." Wesley countered. "And if they are killed by another lion, the newcomer will kill all the females' cubs."

"Thank you for that wildlife lesson, Einstein." John commented. Wesley didn't say anything. On their tv, a rapid beeping sounded, followed by a roar and an explosion.

"Oh, you cheap jerk!" Bobby accused, watching as his character was blown up. "You wouldn't get a single kill without those things."

"Too bad you won't find out." Peter chuckled, his onscreen character reloading a portable missile launcher. "This is way too much fun." Gunfire broke out from a rooftop, and Wesley's character darted in front of Peter, holding a ballistic shield.

"Get behind me!" Wesley ordered. Peter complied, ducking behind him for protection. John promptly threw a hand grenade, making the two scatter. For the next half minute, all three were charging around the little area, ducking in and out of buildings until Peter ran up behind John and knifed him.

"_Tactical nuke available. Just turn the key!_" The Russian announcer proclaimed. Bobby and John groaned in unison.

"Don't. Just don't." Wesley implored. "It's unsporting and we all die."

"_Tactical nuke is on the way!_" The Russian declared. A miniature sun erupted in the animated sky—

—and everything electrical in the entire room shut down, along with the hallway. A stunned silence fell and lasted several moments before one voice piped up.

"What did you guys **do**?!"


	42. More Problems

"Don't you have stairs?" Wesley questioned, jabbing the crowbar between the elevator doors, trying to get enough leverage to pry the doors open. Scott was crouched next to him, working on the doors from a slightly lower point.

"Yeah." He confirmed. "But the doors are linked to the security system. If the emergency power isn't on up here, then that means the security system is dead too. And even **I** couldn't break through to the stairway."

"Brilliant." Wesley said sarcastically. "You've got the generators in the lower levels and the stairs are locked down if the power goes."

"It's built for a crisis, and the generators are supposed to never fail." Jubilee said helpfully, aiming a flashlight at the door so they could see. "We run drills twice a year. Assuming we, like, have a few minutes warning before something **really **bad happens, we all head underground, then seal it off from the mansion."

"And then someone uses a door breaching charge and toasts the elevator." Wesley countered. He tightened his grip on the crowbar. "Ready?"

Scott nodded, "On three. One, two, three." Metal screeched and the doors begrudgingly rolled open. Small lights dotted the walls of the elevator shaft, marking the way down. _What powers those again?_ Wesley tried to remember. It was that same radioactive substance in emergency exit signs. "And no, we have systems in place to seal off the elevator shaft." Scott added. He slung a tool kit over his back, then handed Wesley a small headlamp—flashlights would be awkward.

"Let's go." Scott leaned out, grabbed something, then swung himself around and onto the small service ladder built into a niche in the wall. A few moments later he had climbed down far enough for Wesley to follow.

"Please try to get the power on quickly." Jubilee implored. "American Idol comes on in fifteen minutes."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"And let me guess, you want my clone alive for interrogation?" Logan said, frustration in his voice. "There's kids at that school, Nick. It's not a battleground."

"Don't you think I'm aware of that?" Fury snapped. "The situation is… difficult. It doesn't even act like you—we had it cornered and it **ran**."

"Doesn't sound like Wolverine." Rogue joked weakly.

"Yeah." Fury sighed. "Logan, we've tried a lot of things, and with no luck. This thing isn't predictable, and it's smart. Our best guess is that it's going after you. If we miss this opportunity, who knows how long it will be before another comes along."

"So what do I do? Tie my clone up, then call you?" Logan sounded exasperated. Fury shrugged.

"If you can take it alive, that would be excellent. If not, we can still get a plenty of information from a corpse." Fury handed him a small device, a strange looking phone. "This is a secure phone, pre-programmed to contact us. Alive, dead, or simply if you encounter it. Let us know immediately. We'll can have a squad there in ten minutes."

"Fine."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Okay, I vote we run screaming back to the elevator." Wesley remarked, staring at the sliced cables, then at the control panel. It looked like a combination of a fuse box and a laptop. "You do realize that for sabotage to happen, there has to be a saboteur, right?"

"Afraid?" Scott asked, messing with some buttons on the panel. He strode over to a bag he had dropped on a table and started fishing through it.

"Terrified." Wesley said flatly, his 9mm pistol in his hand, his eyes scanning his surroundings anxiously. The room—scratch that, the entire floor—was pitch black, except for their headlamps and some tiny guide lights glowing in the hallways. "Although I'm relieved that my hand is feeling better. I think Logan's blood helped healed the fingers. A little."

"Fabulous." Scott said, returning to the broken wires. He had a small box of tiny cable lengths, and was busy slicing the casing away to expose the wires at the end.

"What are you doing?" Wesley questioned. "We need to get back up there and tell them what happened!" He had already tried the intercom panel by the door, but it wasn't functioning.

"The generator wasn't sabotaged." The X-Man said briefly. "We have a master control panel that can shut down every system and deactivate the generator. It's in case of extreme situations, and would only be used to avoid scans. They used it to deactivate everything, then cut the wires. To summarize, the light switch is turned off and the wire cut. I've already patched three sets of wires. The more I patch, the more I can bring back online."

"Wires? Sounds ancient." Wesley commented. Scott sighed, sounding like he very much wished the bodyguard would shut up.

"Sometimes old and proven is better." Scott retorted. He stood up, then flipped several large switches. "Okay. Let's see what we can bring online." He typed a command in and the room lit up, back to normal. "The lower level and hangar bay now have full power back. And now the upper levels… normal power is back on the first floor, and in the kitchens." He reported, satisfied. He clicked a few more icons. "Primary security systems are now back online throughout the institute. Gun turrets are still offline, though… Let's check on everyone." Scott pressed a few more buttons, and the screen turned to a static fuzz.

"Oh, yeah, security." Wesley said sarcastically. "I feel safer already."

"This should be the camera feed in the school foyer." Scott said uneasily. "Try the intercom. Press F1. That's the foyer."

"Hey, we fixed it, Jubes." Wesley spoke into the box. "Someone cut a bundle of wires. We've either got a prankster or an intruder." He released the button and waited a beat. No one responded. "Hello? Anyone there?" He smacked the 'paging' button, but didn't elicit a response. "I think I pressed the right button. The icon turned green when I pushed it…" He glanced over his shoulder, looking questioningly at the older man.

Scott was already out of the room, heading down the hallway.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So why couldn't you have just explained this over the phone?" Logan asked, frustration on his face.

"Over the phone?" Fury repeated, sounding amazed. "This isn't like ordering a pizza. There's no 'classified information in ten minutes or the first state secret is free' deal!"

"Okay." Logan said dubiously. "Give me phone that I can use to call out."

"You can't repeat this information over an unsecured line." Fury stated flatly. Logan groaned.

"Fine. I won't." He held out his hand expectantly. Fury nodded, and a SHIELD agent handed Logan a phone. He paused and stared.

"Something wrong?" Fury asked. Logan shook his head.

"Cell phones looked a lot different last time I used one." He muttered, wondering where the keypad went and why the screen was so big. "Marie, do you know the number?" She was startled by the question, her attention elsewhere.

"What?" She asked. Logan handed her the phone.

"Call the school or someone at the school, okay?" He asked. Marie paused, then punched in a set of numbers, pressed _dial_, and offered Logan the phone. He held it to his ear for a few moments.

"No one's answerin'." He said mildly, handing the phone back to her. Marie didn't look happy.

"That's Kitty's number." Marie said. "She always has her phone with her."

"Obviously not." Logan countered. "Do you have Gumbo's number?" Marie shook her head.

"He doesn't have a cell phone." She sighed. "Sorry, I don't have any other numbers."

"Great." Logan said sarcastically. He turned to Fury. "Are we done here?"

"Yes." Fury confirmed, already busy reading some file. "Head back to the roof if you want a ride home."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's going on?" Wesley demanded. Scott shushed him, running lightly down the hallway. "Why not take the elevator?"

"Elevators are traps." Cyclops whispered, typing a security code into a blast door. The lock clicked, and he opened the door to reveal a stairway. "Perfect kill zones. Never use them." He moved quickly up the stairs, his hand on his visor. He paused at the top, waiting for the bodyguard to catch up.

"Left side, low." He ordered, pointing to the right of the door. Wesley crouched, handgun ready. Cyclops swung it open, and they scanned the area without stepping through the door. It was an empty hallway. All the lights were back on.

"Right side clear." Cyclops whispered.

"Left side clear." Wesley replied. The x-men stepped through, moving towards the foyer. Cyclops paused at the corner, then tapped Wesley on the shoulder and pointed. The security camera watching both hallways had been sliced into three pieces. Scott crouched, then peeked around the corner, his head only a foot of the ground—less likely to catch someone's attention. Wesley glanced behind them, taking a moment to wipe his perspiring hands on his jeans. Cyclops stood back up and kept moving forward. Wesley followed, realizing as they passed Ororo's office that they were just a few yards from the—

"Oh… man…" Wesley froze in shock, surveying the bodies scattered around the foyer. The camera mounted by the elevators had been slashed neatly in three.

"Check them." Scott ordered weakly, not unaffected by the sight. Wesley was grateful to notice that Jubilee wasn't there.

"Alive," Wesley said, pulling a dart out of Multiples' neck. "Shot with a tranquilizer."

"Same here." Cyclops confirmed. "Less than lethal."

"What do we do?" Wesley asked. Cyclops ignored him for a moment, checking the other bodies.

"All four, tranquilized." Cyclops said. "All in the neck. Cover me." Cyclops ordered, picking up one of the students, a kid nicknamed Remote. He carried him to the side of the room and set him down, then picked up another student.

"We can't just leave them here." He protested.

"Oh yes we can." Cyclops hissed. "Whoever did this would have killed them or taken them already if they wanted to. We have to find Jean or the Professor."

"If they were still conscious, wouldn't they have contacted us through telepathy?" Wesley countered.

"We have antidotes for most tranquilizers in the infirmary." Cyclops retorted. "If we can find Jean or the Professor, we can wake them up and—" Something made a weird sound, like _phft_. Cyclop's hand shot to his visor and Wesley ducked.

**TSEWW! **A bolt of red energy streaked across the stairway and the balcony, burning through the railing and exposing support beams inside the walls. Wesley turned in time to see a black blur perform several acrobatic flips evading Cyclop's blasts, and vanish down a hallway.

"Don't pursue." Cyclops ordered. "Too dangerous."

"I don't… think I could." Wesley said, sounding dazed. Cyclops barely managed to catch him before he collapsed.

"Hey!" Cyclops said loudly, shaking him before noticing a dart embedded in the younger man's upper arm. He snatched it out as Wesley's eyes drifted shut.

The foyer was dead silent for several seconds.

"Crud!"

"What do we do?" Rogue asked, following the Canadian to the roof. "Hey, Logan!"

"We tell the others that some nutcase might be paying us a visit." Logan sighed. He waved at the chopper pilot and hopped in.

"Take us back." He ordered. The pilot complied wordlessly, and the chopper rotors hummed to life a few seconds later.

"Do you really think they'll show up at the school?" Rogue wondered. Logan shrugged.

"We've been through worse lately, darlin." He said. "Don't worry about it."


	43. Back to School

The story lives! Yes, it's literally been a year or two. I'm sorry, I wish I had actually finished this as I should have. But I intend to wrap it up now. Or, relatively quickly. I looked, and last time I worked on this story was literally January of this year… sad.

And about the horrible shooting, let me ask you to do what a smart guy, like Remy or Logan would do. Remy would read the news reports, and have noticed 15 articles from a dozen sources about it on the first day saying that the killer had two handguns, and police found a .223 Ar-15 rifle in his trunk. Then he'd read the next day and read reports that all the victims died of .223 rifle shots. Then he'd remember, "What happened to that guy in camo who was in the woods they arrested shortly after the shooting, who shouted, 'I didn't do it!' on tv as he was dragged away?" Let me ask you, don't you think the news could get it right if the killer had a rifle with him when they found his body? So, what?

The killer strolled into the school with a rifle, murdered everyone, went back to his car, packed the .223 rifle, and went back into the school to shoot himself with one of his handguns as soon as police arrived?  
If that doesn't sound suspicious to you... well, no hope then...

"_I'm running, and I feel time's running out. There were twelve of us, we're down to seven."—_Contagious

* * *

The once-welcoming Xavier Mansion had a different feel to it when they walked through the front doors. Rogue froze, stunned. Most of the lights were off, or dimmed, casting deep shadows around corridors and the stairway—except for a faint ember-like glow that streaked around the walls where the support beams were exposed, the surface blasted away. Her eyes settled on several inert forms lying around the entryway… bodies.

"They're alive." Logan said curtly, noticing where she was looking. "I can hear them breathing." She still walked over to the closest body, rolling him over to see his face. He didn't have any visible wounds, and was breathing.

"Touch him." Wolverine said, suddenly crouched next to her. She hadn't heard his steps. Rogue gave him an odd look. "Touch him. He probably saw whatever attacked before he was taken down." Rogue hesitated, but took her glove off and touched a single finger to his forehead. He quivered, and she yanked her hand back, feeling another consciousness in her mind.

_Damn… I'm not dead, am I?_ He asked. The faint copy of him, that was.

_No, you're breathing, should be fine,_ Rogue focused, trying to sort through the new memories. _What happened here?_

"Well?" Logan asked.

"Looked like one attacker." Rogue said crisply. "Armed with less than lethal weapons, it infiltrated to the lower levels and cut a lot of the systems. Scott was able to bring some of them back online. I didn't get a good look—it was _fast_, use extreme caution."

"Well, let's go see." Logan said grimly. Rogue found Wesley's handgun, and pulled the slide back briefly to see that it was chambered, before fishing two spare magazines out of his pocket.

"I'll keep six paces behind you, two to your right." She said, taking Wesley's advice. Logan nodded curtly, then stood and just walked down the main corridor, towards the dining hall.

"Why aren't you being more careful?" Rogue asked, holding the semi-automatic at low ready. She noticed that the sights glowed green in the dim.

"You heard Fury… if this is a clone of me, it won't matter if we walk or dance." Logan said, sniffing as he walked. "You know how to use that thing? I don't like getting shot. Hollowpoints have to be dug out, usually."

"Wesley goes to ranges a lot, takes pride in it." Rogue said, scanning each door they passed, even if Logan had just strolled by. She also made sure to look back every few seconds. The dim light gave her the eerie feeling something was going to sneak up on her—and she wished Wesley had a flashlight on his Beretta. _Try putting a handgun in your pocket with a light mounted, _her mind-Wesley commented, a trace of fear in his… 'voice'?

_You know, you're still alive back there, so it probably didn't want to kill you, _She told the mental copy. _So try to be helpful, I'm the one who has to worry here._

_You know there's a __**reason**__ why professionals clear buildings in __**teams**__? _Wesley hissed. _Oh, maybe because it's so easy to get __**killed**__ doing it with two people? _

"Incoming!" Logan roared, diving to his right. Rogue jumped back, flattening herself to the wall. A row of large darts sprung up on the ground where Logan had been. He roared, his claws extending as he charged into the huge library. Rogue turned the corner, handgun up, in time to see him slashing at a small, black-clad figure, only her height or so. Its hands came up, and Logan's claws sparked as they clashed against metal. The figure ducked and flipped backwards in a display of acrobatic skill. It's face was covered with a mask.

Rogue brought the 9mm up and fired three rapid shots, the muzzle flash lighting the room like a camera. If any of the rounds hit, she couldn't tell. Logan rushed forward again, too close for her to risk a shot. The attacker slashed at him, then turned and bolted. Logan charged after. Rogue squeezed off a last round as the attacker darted around a corner towards the foyer, but saw it blow a chunk of wood out of a bookcase. A split second later, both of them were gone.

_Don't follow! _Wesley shouted in her mind. _Get to the infirmary, and find epinephrine injections. You can use it to wake me and others up. Only a small dose though! _Rogue obeyed, and ran back towards the center of the dark mansion.

_What happens if I give you too much? _She wondered.

_Oh, a bunch of painful stuff that ends with me dying, probably, _Wesley replied offhandedly.

Logan could move when he needed too. He darted into the foyer, only a second or two behind the intruder. Nothing.

A tiny sound made him look up. The intruder was on top of the massive chandelier, and slashed at the chain with two claws. He dove and rolled yet again as the chandelier crashed to the floor. The intruder gracefully flipped, hit the railing, and was suddenly on his level again. He just tackled it, ignoring the claws in his chest and shoulder as he grabbed at the masked face. It jerked away, leaving the mask in his hands.

It was a girl, probably not older than fifteen. Logan just stared in amazement.

"Who are you?!" He demanded. The girl spun, solidly kicking him in the side of the head.

"I'm _you!_" The girl screamed angrily. "I'm cloned from your genes!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Logan shouted, dodging a slash, not wanting to hurt her. "Who cloned me?"

"Hyrda!" The girl snarled. "As a _weapon!_ After I broke out, I _found _the records. How much did they pay you to help make a living weapon? I suffered for _years!_" Logan caught her arm as she swung, then the other.

"I wasn't involved!" He growled. "I don't know where they got my DNA, I had no idea was being cloned!" She screamed and brought her feet up, kicking him in the thighs. He roared at the pain as a single metal claw extended from each of her feet into him. She flipped backwards, sending him through a window and onto the lawn.

"Kid, I know what it's like to have your head messed with, to be treated like a thing." He shouted angrily. "I wouldn't, and **didn't**, help **anyone** do that to someone else, much less a clone of myself!"

"You're lying!" She screamed. Logan took a breath, and retracted his claws, trying to look less threatening. Faintly, he heard shouting. Rogue, Cyclops? He forced his voice to be reasonably calm, resisted the urge to swear at her.

"I'm not lying, kid. I'm sorry for what happened to you. It's horrible, and wrong that you had to go through that. But I wasn't involved at all!" Logan didn't quite know how to deal with an angry teenage girl, much less one with claws. "But that doesn't mean your life is over. This place, it's a refuge for mutants. They can help you start a _real_ life." She swung again, but she was crying, screaming. He grabbed her hand, keeping the claws away.

"I don't want to hurt you, kid." He kept his voice as calm as he could. The girl looked like she could have been his daughter. Her hair was long, and lighter, but her face had similarities, the eyes were the same, except red with tears. "I'm sorry you suffered. But you're alright, now. You're a person, you don't have to keep fighting, being a weapon." She sobbed again, but collapsed against him, burying her face in his shirt. He froze, a bit surprised at the turn, but managed to pat her on the back.

"It's gonna be okay." He said. "You're gonna be alright, kid. What's your name?"

"Laura." The girl choked out, still sobbing.


End file.
